


Between the Generations

by That_Random_Kid



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author's Lack of Lore Knowledge Really Shows, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kid Nero, Misadventures of GrandBug Sparda and His Grandson Nero, Nero and Sparda Bonding Time, No Beta We Die With Style, Protective Sparda, Sparda says no to abandonment issues, There might be more angst than previously expected, Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry), With a side of angst, actually scratch that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Random_Kid/pseuds/That_Random_Kid
Summary: The first time Nero stumbled upon the abandoned statue of Sparda was by complete chance, yet he can’t help but feel drawn to it and finds himself coming back either to let out his frustrations or to just think things out.However, after a particularly harsh meltdown, the statue turns from stone to flesh and Nero realizes just how true all the Order’s legends were as standing before him was the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda himself.
Relationships: Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante & Sparda (Devil May Cry), Nero & Sparda (Devil May Cry), Sparda & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 301
Kudos: 412





	1. A Chance Encounter

The first time Nero stumbled upon the abandoned statue of Sparda was by complete chance.

Nero had gotten into a fight with some of the other kids in the orphanage. Marcus rounded up a few of the other children and surrounded Nero. The younger boy tried to tell them off not wanting to get into yet another fight; the last thing he needed was Sister Xista giving an additional lecture about his ‘rash’ behavior on top of the various other things she yells his ear off for.

At first, it was fine. The boys would just poke fun at Nero, saying his parents never loved him (who needed parents that would trade him away for convenience anyways?), or that his mother was a prostitute (So what if she was? It wasn’t like Nero had any ties with her). But then they called him a cursed child. While that on its own wouldn’t be enough to set him off, Marcus smugly told Nero that one day that curse would spread to Kyrie and her family.

And that’s when Nero lost it. 

People can make fun of Nero all they wanted—he’s come to terms with that now—but they do not get to drag the only people who ever cared about him down to this level. Kyrie, Credo, and their family were the only good things in Nero’s otherwise dreary life. They didn’t deserve to be slandered like this. In a fit of blind rage, Nero mindlessly threw his fists around him, trying to connect with anything solid. The boys around him followed suit and they ended up in a brawl; no side having a visible upper hand.

However, from the corner of Nero’s eyes he noticed two sisters running towards the group and realized just how much trouble he would get into if they caught him. So Nero did what any sensible kid his age would have done.

He ran.

Nero didn’t know how long he ran for, nor did he care. He knew he had to go back to the orphanage eventually, but for now, he just wanted to be alone. The young boy figured he could deal with his punishments later—once he cooled down from the heat of the fight.

Eventually, the pain in Nero’s legs caused him to stop and fall to the ground. Sucking in as much air as he could, Nero’s heart rate and adrenaline slowly returned to normal levels. He looked around and promptly realized he screwed up. Nero had no idea where he was other than some part of Mitis Forest. Nero was definitely screwed.

The forest was off-limits to anyone outside The Order for a reason. And that was probably due to the fact that it was filled with demons. Nero’s nerves were immediately set on edge as he took in his surroundings. Despite his building panic he tried to assure himself that he’d be safe. Although he didn’t have a weapon on him, he did have some training from Credo when he’d visit with Kyrie. But still, the nagging voice in the back of his mind spoke of nothing but misfortune ahead.

Shaking his head as if to chase away all his negative thoughts, Nero mustered his determination and tried to find something that would help him in case of an attack or a way to get out of the forest. All Nero could see were just trees, grass, lots of dirt, and the occasional bugs.

That had to be good news, right? So far there was no demons in sight; that had to mean he was close enough to town. With this confirmation, Nero was able to tuck away his building anxiety. While he wasn’t in any immediate danger, that still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know how to get out.

Nero decided to just head forward. As long as he moved in one direction he was bound to get out of the forest, right? Nero decided. Nothing else to do but head forward. He walked in silence; the only noise to break it being the occasionally steeping on a branch or cawing of a bird. The sun was still bright over his head, so Nero still had plenty of time before dark.

Relief flushed through Nero as he saw an opening of the woods in front of him. Running as fast as he could, Nero finally got to the clearing—only to be disappointed when he came face to face with a statue of Sparda (Not Savior—he was never a savior to Nero). 

Unlike the statues around town and in the church, this one was almost human-sized and seemed to be abandoned. Vines and moss grew along the edges of the stone figure showing just how forgotten it was by the people. Another way the statue was dissimilar from the ones in The Order was the fact that this was Sparda in his human form. For some reason, The Order loved to drive home the fact that Sparda was a demon of mass power and influence. The only reason he even knew this was Sparda and not some random man was because of a picture he saw in one of Kyrie’s books that he was guilted into reading.

But was that a... monocle?

Since when did Sparda wear a stupid monocle?

Maybe the sculptor was trying to project something onto his statue of Sparda? Hell if Nero knew. He never was one to understand ‘art’; that was more Kyrie’s thing. She did have a great voice after all. Nero couldn’t help but frown at himself as he found himself wondering about the statue.

He had more important things to do dammit! He didn’t have all day to stare at a stupid figure of Sparda. He had to get out of the forest before night fell; he might not get attacked by demons, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be wild animals more than happy to feed on him.

“NERO!”

Hearing the familiar scream of Credo snapped Nero out of his thoughts as he quickly tried to follow the voice. Mustering all the strength he could, Nero yelled as loudly as he could, “I’m in a clearing Credo!” 

Nero followed the sound of rustling leaves and eventually found himself face to face with Credo. Looking up, he could see Credo’s stern face and was fully expecting a lecture about not only getting into a fight with kids in the orphanage but also worrying the sisters by running off. Before Credo could get a world out, Nero hugged the man he considered his brother and buried his head in the older man’s chest.

Credo stiffened as he felt Nero’s arms wrap around him, however, he quickly recovered and wrapped his own arms around Nero. The two stood in silence, holding the other in their arms. The solace in finding the other was unsaid as it hung in the air between them.

Nero broke the hug first looked down at his shoes in shame. Credo let out a soft sigh as he got down to Nero’s level and rested a hand on his shoulders, “I’m not upset with you Nero, nor will I lecture you on your behavior.” The younger boy looked back up, ice blue eyes lit up with relief and shock at Credo’s words.

The corner of the brunette’s lips turned up as he stood back up. Holding his hand out to Nero, Credo spoke up again a hint of satisfaction making itself known in his voice, “My parents got approved to foster you, Nero. Congratulations.”

A bright smile splits Nero’s face as he took Credo’s hand and followed him home.

Home.

Maybe Sparda wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

Since that fateful day, Nero felt drawn towards the abandoned Sparda statue in Mitis Forest. He felt some sort of comradery with the statue (Nero could hardly believe it himself sometimes). Like Nero had been abandoned by his parents and then the orphanage, this statue too was lost to Fortuna; but similar to how Nero now had a family, the statue found Nero…? Yeah… That sounded weird to him too.

Nonetheless, it didn’t change the fact that Nero would regularly visit the statue. 

The hardest part of the whole exchange was trying to get away from home without Credo, Kyrie or their parents noticing. Most days, the family would head to Sanctus’s hearings. They knew Nero didn’t enjoy or understand the preaching of the island’s pope, so they never force Nero to go with them. However, that wasn’t the only reason why Nero refused to go.

There was just something off about Sanctus and the rest of the higher members of The Oder of The Sword. Nero’s only had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting Sanctus three times in his life. All three of those times, Sanctus would always stare at Nero with this weird look. It wasn’t so much as longing or intrigue, but a more twisted fascination, almost like an obsession. Either way, Nero usually goes out of his way to avoid Sanctus.

And that’s exactly what he told the statue.

A lot of days would pass by like this. Just Nero sitting in front of the statue, ranting about The Order, or random people who would take behind his back, or even just a stupid fight he got into with Credo. But he also found himself talking about little things that made his day, like how Credo’s dad got Nero some parts so he could make himself a gun, despite it being frowned upon in Fortuna, or how Kyrie would always practice her singing in front of him, and even whenever he would beat Credo in a spar.

Nero never knew what about the statue made him open up about all his deepest fears, hopes, and dreams that he had always kept locked away. But Nero never minded. It helped him get some much-needed weight off his chest, and for that, he couldn’t be happier. Maybe Sparda was good for something in his life after all.

“You know,” Nero found himself saying one day. “I always hated people worshipping you. It was stupid. They wouldn’t have been able to meet you. All they would’ve heard were legends. Hell, I still don’t think you exist.”

Nero took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Apparently you had kids too,” he decides to voice after a short pause. “I wonder if you left them… If you did would it have been because you wanted to protect them? Or was it that they were just a weakness to you?”

Looking down at the ground between them, Nero couldn’t help but frown. Maybe that’s why his parents left him. Maybe he was just a weakness to them that they couldn’t be bothered to deal with. If that was the case, would he be able to forgive them? Only time would tell Nero supposed.

In the nearby distance, church bells begin to ring. Nero’s eyes widen in fear as he quickly gets up and scurries back home before Kyrie and her family get back. Before leaving the clearing, Nero was sure to tell the statue that he’d be back.

Who was Nero kidding? It’s not like the statue was going anywhere.

* * *

The last time Nero sees the statue, he punches it.

Repeatedly.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A SAVIOR! SOME SORT OF PROTECTOR TO PEOPLE WHO WORSHIPED YOU!” Nero cried out in frustration as his fist connected with the Sparda’s chest for the fifth time that evening.

Nero and Credo came back from a training session only to notice their neighborhood being attacked by demons. Credo ordered Nero to run back to their house and find Kyrie and their parents while he dealt with the demons. Anxiously Nero nodded and hurried back to their house, only to notice it swallowed in flames.

Having no regard for his own safety, Nero rushed into the house and called out for Kyrie. Hearing no response, stress and unease filled Nero’s thoughts as he scurried around the house trying to find Kyrie or her parents.

Thankfully, he managed to find Kyrie, who was unconscious but otherwise unharmed and was able to carry her outside where it was relatively safer. Nero took a deep gulp of fresh air and steeled himself to go back inside to try and search for her parents. However, he was stopped by the house literally collapsing before his eyes, leaving Nero no way back into the house.

Nero felt his legs give in as he collapsed to the ground, much like the house where he spent so many years in. Where he built so many endearing memories. Where he felt genuinely loved for the first time since he was born. All he could do was watch as the place he called home crumbled to the ground before him.

Nero hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt a soft thumb shifting under his eyes. Looking up through tear-filled eyes, Nero saw Kyrie, who was crying just as much. 

Why?

Why was she comforting Nero? He wasn’t the one that lost his home, or his parents (he had lost those before he was even born). Shaking his head Nero grabbed Kyrie’s hand and lowered it from his face. He then pulled her into a hug and the two stayed like that for a while. And if Kyrie grabbed tighter and Nero felt his shirt getting soaked, no one had to know. The two held each other and cried over the tragedy that befell them.

“I GET IT IF YOU MADE MY LIFE HELL, ALRIGHT! I NEVER PRAYED TO YOU AND ALL I’D EVER DO WAS CURSE YOUR NAME.” Nero’s voice cracked as he struggled to get out the words that clogged his throat. “BUT ALL KYRIE AND CREDO EVER DID WAS WORSHIP YOU! THEY WOULD LITERALLY DO ANYTHING YOU ASKED THEM TO!”

Nero threw yet another punch at the supposed ‘Savior’. He could feel the blood pouring from his knuckles and he most certainly heard the crack from his fist; evidence that something had been broken. But the pain? It was all inside. His entire body felt numb. Here he was, his hand bleeding and broken, yet the only pain he could feel was that of a deep ache in his heart.

Suddenly, a blinding white light filled Nero’s eyes. Nero instinctually raised his right arm to cover his eyes as he shut them tight. Even though he covered his eyes, Nero could still see traces of the light dancing around in the darkness; he could still feel the intense warmth emitting from the light before him.

Eventually, the light faded, allowing Nero to finally lowered his arm and opened his eyes. His vision slowly returned as he tried to determine where the sudden source of the light came from.

Standing right in front of him was Sparda, equipped with hair as white as his and blue eyes that matched his own. The man donned a purple Victorian-style outfit (the only reason he even knew what that was is that Kyrie’s mom tried to force him into a similar outfit when he attended Credo’s knighting ceremony). And how could Nero forget that stupid monocle on his left eye? Seriously, what was up with the monocle? Did Sparda think it was cool? When was the last time he had a wardrobe check?

“I must thank you for freeing me from my confines little one.” A deep voice snapped Nero from his thoughts as he realized Sparda was actually talking to him. “If it is not too much, might I ask where I am?”

Although Nero heard the question, he didn’t actually hear the man, before him talk to him. He just couldn’t get the fact that Sparda was real out of his head. Blue eyes widened in shock at the implications of Nero’s actions. 

Is he going to turn into a bug monster and eat me? That’s what demons do, don’t they? Yeah, Sparda was a ‘peaceful’ demon that fought for humanity, but surely, he was aware of the blatant disrespect Nero treated him with? For the first time in Nero’s life, he felt completely and utterly screwed (sure he screwed up before, but those were nowhere near as bad as this).

Mustering all the courage he could despite his 9 years of life, Nero managed to mutter, “Fortuna.”

“Ah.”

Ah? Really? 

The older male looks down at Nero with a soft gaze akin to only one that he had seen Credo and Kyrie’s parents give him. There was one thing bothering Nero. Sparda wasn’t looking directly at him, but rather something just below his face. Following the elder’s gaze, Nero realized why.

He somehow grew a demonic arm.

What the—

Where did it even come from? 

Nero’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he broke out in cold sweat. The pounding of his heart is the only noise he could hear and the rush of nerves being the only thing he could feel. Acting more out of instinct than as a conscious decision, Nero tried his best to cover his arm using the sleeves of his shirt. 

Was he really a demon?

Is this why he was abandoned by his parents?

Was he actually a cursed child?

Is this—

A warm hand resting on his shoulder snapped him out of his spiral as he was met with a similar pair of warm blue eyes. “You know, you remind me of my sons; they were about your age last I had seen them.”

Nero’s breathing had yet to return to its normal rate, although, due to Sparda’s fond tone and calming aura Nero found that he was no longer on the verge of hyperventilating. While the younger male was grateful for Sparda’s gentle presence, that didn’t change the fact that Nero was still pissed at Sparda, or that Sparda should be pissed at (or at least offended by) Nero.

Sparda crouched down in front of Nero, the same way Credo did whenever he was trying to calm Nero down from a fight, and spoke softly, “do not be alarmed by the arm…”

Nero, thankfully, understand what Sparda was promoting. “Nero.”

Sparda nodded once before continuing. “Do not be alarmed by your arm Nero. It is a testament to your powers, and if my suspicions are correct, your lineage.”

Lineage? As in his parents? Did Sparda know his parents?!?

By now, Nero’s breathing and heart rate had returned to normal levels. His mind still swarmed with numerous questions and thoughts, but at least he wasn’t terrified of what was going to happen to him. Nero gazed up at Sparda through his bangs as he curiously inquired, “do you know my parents?”

Sparda shook his head in response.

“Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing. However, if I am able to find my sons, they may know.” Standing back up Sparda paused for a moment as if to collect his thoughts, before asking Nero, “would you like to accompany me?”

Surprise filled Nero’s face as his mouth opened slightly. Was this for real? Sparda wanted him to follow the Legendary Dark Knight to find his parents? This had to be some sort of twisted dream. There was just no way this was possible.

What else was Nero to say in response than nodding his head vigorously?

* * *

Sanctus was sitting back in his chair as he took a sip of his lukewarm tea. 

Yet another failure. At this rate, The Order will never be able to fully perfect the Ascension Ceremony. How many more trials were needed before the scientists would be able to produce a competent Angelo. Sanctus shook his head at the thought. But at least they still had the boy, Nero. Sanctus had great suspicion that the young boy carried the blood of Sparda through his veins if the signature white hair and blue eyes were anything to go by. And yet he has not shown a single sign of containing any demonic essence.

The pope let out a sigh as he placed the cup back down at his desk almost as if to dismiss the thoughts running rampant in his head. As he began to shift through the various reports left lying on his desk, his door suddenly flew open.

“Your Holiness!”

Angus stood by the opening of his office and was panting heavily, almost as if he ran directly from his labs.

"I-I-I just f-found a large quantity of pure demonic energy." Such a trivial matter. 

"Send a batch of Knights out to dispose of it." Sanctus snapped impatiently. Agnus, however, seemed greatly amused by the other's lack of interest at his statement. "Ah, but you see Your Holiness, these demonic signatures are that of Sparda and his kin."

This caught Sanctus's attention. Not only has their Lord returned to Fortuna, but was it possible that he had found Nero? Had Nero finally awakened his demonic nature? All the pieces were finally falling into place. Nero would be used to power the Savior while Sparda once again ruled over Fortuna. This land will relive its Golden Age once again. A cunning smile graces Sanctus's lips as he finally looked at the chief scientist. "Please give our Lord a warm welcome. As for the boy...do as you please to extract his power."

Agnus bowed to the man before him. "As you wish, Your Holiness."


	2. Hell Hath No Fury Like an Enraged Sparda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparda bids farewell to Nero for the night before their long journey and finally meets the man who ruled over Fortuna in his absence. However, as Sparda learns more and more about The Order, he quickly realizes he may have underestimated the cruelty of humanity- and it might even cost him his only grandson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating this earlier than I initially planned :D In all honesty though, I meant to wait until I had the chapter after this done, but then I realized I have a bunch of assignments due this week for some online courses I'm doing. So enjoy the early chapter! ^^

Upon being freed by Nero, Sparda was forced to recall the events that led up to his detainment.

After hearing rumors of a possible Hell Gate, Sparda was quick to inform Eva of the dangers and left his home in Redgrave. Ultimately, if the Hell Gate was left unchecked swarms of demons would descend on innocent and unprotected humans. And although Fortuna was quite some distance from Redgrave, it was still not a risk Sparda would want his family to face.

Upon arriving at Fortuna, he was quick to realize that while the rumors weren’t false, they weren’t completely true either. There was a Hell Gate, yes, but it wasn’t operational. After some prodding, Sparda was able to confirm they needed high quantities of demonic energy to properly open the gates. He let out a sigh in relief, silently congratulating himself for not bringing any devil arms on him; Lest it gets misplaced or taken from him and used to open the gates.

However, if Devil Arms were needed to open the gates, that left only one conclusion: these gates were human-made.

Why would humans create Hell Gates? Did they not understand the risks of demons? Did they not care about the problems a Hell Gate would pose to its people? Sparda fought for humanity due to their resilient and vibrant natures. And while he knew that there were some humans who weren’t opposed to using whatever methods they could to achieve their goals, this was so much worse.

Sparda decided. 

He would destroy the Hell Gates scattered around the island and then (hopefully) return home in time for dinner with Eva and the kids. A fond smile graced Sparda’s face as he recollected the promise, he made to Vergil to take him to a bookstore, and to Dante to teach him a ‘flashy’ skill with Rebellion. And how could he forget trying Eva’s various attempts at making pizza? Vergil was absolutely flabbergasted at the idea of eating homemade pizza, but Dante was more than pleased with the task.

Unfortunately, Sparda’s plan was not able to come to pass. Shortly after destroying a Hell Gate located in the island’s forest Sparda was met by a group of hooded men, each having a sword insignia on the shoulder of their coats. Before Sparda could explain his goal or ask the men why Hell Gates were scattered throughout the island, he was interrupted by one of the men.

“There he is! We can test the sealing spell out on this demon!”

“Are you sure? This looks an awful like—”

“Shut up and hand me the veil of blood!”

Before Sparda even knew what was happening, his movements were restrained, and runes appeared by his feet. His struggle meant nothing in the face of this spell. He simply did not have the strength he once had when he led his rebellion against Mundus—most of his powers being sealed in Force Edge and Temen-Ni-Gru. The last thought Sparda having before turning to stone was just how badly Eva would scold him for being late.

But now Sparda was free once again. Saved by a young boy who appeared ignorant of his heritage.

The first thing Sparda sensed upon being freed from the seal was the demonic aura of a nestling. Sparda only had two nestlings. Had his sons found him? In which case, which of the two was standing before him? Dante? No. This presence wasn’t nearly as eccentric as his younger son. So then… Vergil? But there was a difference in this one’s aura that varied greatly from the presence he so closely associated with his elder son.

Upon opening his eyes, however, Sparda was faced with a disheartening truth. Standing before him was neither Dante nor Vergil. Yet this child looked so much like his sons and instigated a similar sense of protectiveness. The child wasn’t purely human—his right arm being all the proof Sparda needed for that statement. But why was this child invoking such a feeling of affection from the demon?

Could, perhaps, more time passed than Sparda had originally thought? Has he been gone so long that his sons now had children of their own? And if Nero truly is his grandson… where was his father? Sparda refused to believe either of his sons would have a child and leave them to fend for themselves. While Sparda couldn’t say he raised them better than that, he could confidently say Eva would not let such foolishness pass. As soon as Sparda helps Nero find his parents, he will find Eva, apologize for his long disappearance, do as many chores he would be assigned as punishment, and them promptly ask her about events that had passed as he was sealed away.

“I should get back to Kyrie and Credo. They’re probably looking for me.” Nero’s quiet mumbling broke Sparda out of his train of thought.

Kyrie and Credo...? Where had Sparda heard these names from. Lips twitching upwards, Sparda looked down at the young boy. “You’re friends, yes?”

Nero’s eyes widened comedically as his mouth was left open a bit. Nero quickly ducked his head, but not before Sparda was able to spot a sublet pink blush dusting his cheeks. “you—you heard all that?”

The older demon nodded in response. “You spoke of them quite fondly. I am sorry to hear of their parent’s passing… Unfortunately, I was not able to prevent such an attack.” Regret swelled through Sparda’s heart. Although he knew he could not do anything to stop the attack, having been sealed away, he knew just how much it had affected Nero. 

Nero was quick to shake his head. “It’s not your fault, I get that now. And for what its worth, I’m sorry about, uh, everything… you know, yelling at you, cursing you, wishing…” Nero trailed off, embracement evident in his voice. 

“It is quite alright little one. All is forgiven. Now, what were you saying about returning home?”

“Right! I have to go back, but I’ll meet you back here tomorrow. Then we can go and find my parents and your sons!” Nero gave Sparda an exaggerated wave before running out of the clearing and into the woods.

Sparda found himself chuckling at the young boy’s antics. 

Now then, to finish the business he originally came to Fortuna for.

* * *

Night fell as Sparda managed to destroy the last of the lesser gates. All that was left was the true Hell Gate, though Sparda was having difficulty trying to pin down its exact location. Perhaps he should ask the church for assistance in the matter. He was a lord of the land a handful of centuries ago after all.

With a destination in mind, Sparda moved quickly to the church. However, on his journey, Sparda couldn’t help but worry over Nero. Despite only knowing the boy for a handful of minutes, Sparda felt completely charmed by his nature. He had a good head on his shoulders, but his obvious distress over his arm caused Sparda to frown. It was a part of his was it not? Something that will allow him to protect those precious to him…no? Maybe on their journey together Sparda could convince Nero to embrace his demonic nature.

But did Nero get home safely? 

He will check up on Nero once he finished his business with The Order Sparda decided.

While walking on the bridge towards the church, Sparda couldn’t help but marvel at the development of the small town he ruled over. Not only have the number of demons sighted decreased significantly since he last visited but now the people of Fortuna have their own means of fighting back. Sparda couldn’t be more pleased. This was exactly why he chose to fight for humans; their resourcefulness and drive to succeed rivaled that of nearly any demon.

“My Lord Sparda! Y-y-you have finally returned!” A shrill voice interrupted Sparda from his musing. Ice blued eyes locked onto a tanned brunette. Sparda felt his eyebrow raise in surprise. Had they known Sparda was sealed away or was this a more recent discovery? It did not matter; for now, it was best he stayed cautious.

“Might I ask your name?”

The man straightens his back before performing—in Sparda’s opinion— an exaggerated bow. “You may call me Agnus. I am the chief scientist with The Order of the Sword.” Sparda nodded once signaling his understanding.

“Now if you’ll follow me, His Holiness has been eager to meet with you.” And so, follow was what Sparda did.

While Sparda wished for a silent walk allowing him to rearrange and organize his thoughts, he was instead met with a lengthy description of Fortuna and The Order. This is itself wasn’t too bad—in fact Sparda quite enjoyed gaining knowledge and learning new information (a trait that was passed down to his elder son no doubt)—however, there were some red flags in the details of Agnus’s explanations.

For starters the collection of Devil Arms. Although from the names of demons they have captured it would appear they only had Devil Arms from lower-level demons. That may have been enough to power the lesser Hell Gates, but not the true one. Could it be The Order was responsible for the Hell Gates in the first place? This was most troubling and acted as yet another reason to get Nero out as soon as possible. If he and Nero are indeed connected the way he believes, Nero must not fall in The Order’s hands.

Then there was when Agnus mentioned a Devil Arm of immense power. The only problem was that it was broken. He had asked Sparda if he was willing to fix it. Sparda promised to take a look at it and made a side note to try and extract the Devil arm from The Order’s hands before he left the island with Nero. 

“His Holiness, Sanctus, is right behind these doors. If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters that require my attention.” Agnus held the door open for Sparda, prompting him to head into the room. Before the scientist left, Sparda couldn’t help but notice a red stain on his otherwise white sleeves and what appeared to be bite marks on his hand.

Blood and bite marks from dealing with demons Sparda assumed. Though a sinking feeling of dread hovered in the back of Sparda’s mind almost as if to tell him it wasn’t a demon that did that. If not a demon then what… or rather, who? 

Sparda was beginning to feel as if coming to the church was a mistake and was very well tempted to return back to the woods and wait till dawn for Nero. However, another part of him, most likely the part of him that once ruled over this land, urged him to get to the bottom of the Hell Gates before he left to search for Nero.

Best to finish this business quickly then.

“Sparda, it has been much too long since your last visit.” A raspy voice called out to the demon. An elder male, well past his prime stood in front of Sparda, his body covered in ceremonial robes. “Might I ask what brought you back to Fortuna?”

Sparda paused a moment, trying to determine his answer before responding. Angus’s words echoed in Sparda’s mind as he tried to choose his answer. The Order wasn’t as straight forward as Sparda had hoped if Agnus’s implications of demonic experimentation were anything to go by. He couldn’t help but feel as if the Hell Gates were partially The Order’s fault. By telling the Sanctus his plans he could instead be warning The Order, giving them time to hide the Hell Gate…

“I was searching for someone.” Sparda eventually settled on. “Thankfully it did not take long to find them.”

A smile found its way on Sanctus’s face, and yet, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That is most excellent news indeed.” Sparda hummed in agreement.

“It would appear I have forgotten my manners. Tea?” 

Sparda accepted and the two men found their way to a bench overlooking the city. For a while, neither of the men spoke, instead enjoying the slight breeze and the scenic environment Fortuna provided. Sparda decided to break the silence by asking about The Order of The Sword. Sanctus, pleased in Sparda’s interest, was eager to answer.

The Order was formed shortly after Sparda left the city and acted as a means of defense against demons. It had originally been a group of a few knights who would patrol more populated regions of the city, but it ended up growing. The Order Gained not only more knights but also held a highly respected reputation amongst the population of Fortuna. As The Order Grew, it gained more influence and eventually become the governing body of the island. 

When Sparda asked about Agnus and the science department, Sanctus hesitated before informing Sparda that it was a recently developed branch. The scientists studied demonic behavior and patterns in hopes of creating weapons for the knights to use. Although Sanctus didn’t outright say it, Sparda had a hunch the experimentation did not stop at demons.

If Sparda was correct in assuming that The Order was attempting to create artificial demons, that would only spell disaster for the people of Fortuna. Hell Gates and potential demon replication. Sparda found himself sighing. He had a lot to do before he left Fortuna with Nero in the morning.

Almost as if taking his sigh as a sign of fatigue, Sanctus spoke up, “Perhaps it’s best we turn in for the night. I will be happy to answer any lingering questions you have in the morning.” Sparda quickly agreed and was led to, what was probably predetermined, lodging. Bidding the demon a good night, Sanctus promised to have knights fetch him come the morning.

Once Sparda was sure Sanctus had left his perimeter, Sparda slipped out of his room. He’d rather not fight any humans if he could avoid it, opting to slip past any knights patrolling the church. Finding the experiments were the first priority. With luck, they will lead him to the Hell Gates that he can destroy before meeting up with Nero. With a plan set, Sparda made his way to the lower levels of the church.

That was until a familiar demonic energy suffocated Sparda’s every sense. In that instant. Sparda’s brain froze. While the presence was eerily similar to the weapon, he had given his eldest son. His mind warning him of the ongoing doom and misfortune that would transpire if he followed. Yet his curiosity won in the end. He chased after the energy as swiftly as he could.

Yamato?

Did this mean Vergil was here?

No. This was not the same cry Yamato sang when she was held by Vergil. Yamato… She was crying for help! Hundreds of thoughts spurred on in Sparda’s mind as he tried to make sense of the situation that was suddenly thrust upon him. It—it couldn’t be… Nero!

Sparda cursed to himself as he reprimanded his misguided faith. He should have seen Nero home instead of believing he would make it home safely! Now he could be harmed or worse dea—no! Sparda refused to believe a child under his protection was harmed to such a degree. 

When Sparda finally stumbled upon the room, his heart sank. Standing before him was Nero. While he wasn’t dead, he looked close enough to it that there may as well have been a grim reaper standing right beside him. Although Nero was a pale child, his skin was whiter than it had any right to be. It was downright corpse-like. Blood was seeping from two holes in his shoulders as well as a puncture wound from his chest. No child should ever be this close to death’s door. Nero was slumped over the Yamato struggling to lift the blade with his fading strength. The elegant blade crying out to its wielder to draw on her powers to seal his wounds, but Nero was too weak to hear her desperate cries. 

That was when it clicked in Sparda’s mind. Vergil was the boy’s father. Nero was indeed his grandson. And here he was dying before Sparda could even tell him the truth before Sparda could get to know the child before Sparda could introduce him to his family.

It was then and only then that Sparda caught sight of another man in the room.

Agnus.

Hot, burning rage swelled up in Sparda’s chest as he glared at the chief scientist. How dare this man harm a child! How dare he harm his grandson! What Sparda felt in this very moment could not be described as human. It was twisted far beyond rage that humans and demons alike would have expected of him. Burning like fire through his veins. Intoxicating every fiber of his body with smoldering, red-hot fury. Not even hell itself would provide this monster of a man sanction once Sparda was through with him.

Sparda hadn’t even realized he transformed into his demonic form as he slammed the brunette against the wall. Summoned swords pinning him to the wall, mimicking the wounds on Nero’s body. Agnus’s struggles were irrelevant against Sparda’s superior strength, and most importantly his blind rage. Sparda should really leave the fool here, slowly bleeding to death for what he did. 

“Spar—” 

Nero?

Nero!

Sparda quickly forgot about the man in his arms as he rushed back to Nero. His previous blind rage was quickly replaced by anxious concern for his grandson. Nero has lost his fight for consciousness. If only Sparda had noticed sooner! If only he had stayed with Nero instead of sending him back home! If only he’d—no! Now was not the time to wallow in regret! He had one chance to save his grandson, and he had to grasp it!

Gathering the unconscious boy and Yamato in his arms, Sparda flew upwards, bursting through several ceilings while making sure to protect the Nero from any debris. Sparda had to get off the island, the Hell Gates and experiments were completely forgotten. His only concern was the boy at death’s doors.

Nero was surely a quarter demon… so why won’t he heal?!? Vergil and Dante constantly stabbed each other while sparing, yet they healed themselves moments after pulling the sword out of their bodies. Why won’t Nero do the same? Sparda couldn’t lose him! Not after only finding out he had a grandson!

He needed to tell Nero how proud hie was of his resilient yet kind nature. He wished to teach Nero how to fight and give him a Devil Arm to call his own. He wanted to show off his cute little grandson to Eva and show Dante his nephew! There was so much Sparda wanted to do with Nero. The child could not die yet.

Sparda lost count of how much time passed before he finally saw land far enough away from Fortuna. As gently as he could, Sparda set Nero down on a grassy field. Ah! Perhaps a vital star could heal the worst of Nero’s injuries! Scurrying to check his pockets, Sparda’s felt all hope drain from his body as nothing turned up. 

It was then that Yamato finally spoke to him.

_| Master! There isn’t much time! |_

“Yamato, please,” Sparda begged to his most trusted blade. “You must know of some way to save him.”

_| It may be risky, but if I am able to fuse with the child, I might be able to provide enough energy for his demonic nature to heal his body. |_

Tears began to gather at the edges of the demon’s eyes as he placed the blade by Nero’s demonic arm. Closing his eyes, Sparda felt wet streaks descend his face as Yamato faded into the young boy’s arm.

For a few terrifying moments, nothing happened. Sparda couldn’t bring himself to look at Nero as he sensed the boy’s presence fade right in front of him. The only sound he could hear were Nero’s raspy breaths slowly decreasing in frequency. Yamato has failed just as Sparda had; and now Nero had to pay the price for their shortcomings.

Then it happened all at once.

Nero’s demonic arm glowed a bright blue as his wounds quickly closed themselves. His breathing returned to a normal pace and any pain once visible on his face vanished. Yamato had done it! Sparda almost collapsed in relief as all the tension left his body.

Next he saw Yamato, he would thank her from Hell and back.

Sparda cradled the now asleep (no longer unconscious) Nero in his arms. He couldn’t resist brushing a soft kiss against the boy’s temple. Sparda was allowed to do as much after all the grief Nero put the demon through. Eventually, Sparda spawned his wings and curled around the sleeping child in his arms, letting the warmth and knowledge that his grandson was safe and alive led him towards slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back readers! Many thanks to everyone who commented, it really made my day reading them and seeing everyone so excited for the series. I'm looking forward to seeing your thoughts on this chapter as well; hopefully I delivered with protective Sparda! 
> 
> I don’t know if I’m going to include Dante and Vergil in the fic just yet, but lemme know what you think about them being included! I swear this was supposed to be short, but now I got like ten different things I want to do with this series. Well, we'll see how it goes! ۹(ÒہÓ)۶


	3. In-Flight Training With GrandBug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Fortuna left both Nero and Sparda feeling powerless. Now the two make their way to where Sparda originally sealed his powers so that he may fetch Force Edge all while training Nero to properly utilize his Devil Bringer.
> 
> It was time to travel to Temen-Ni-Gru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Me:** You know what, that's enough angst! Bring on the fluff!!!
> 
>  **Also Me:** Yeah, no. Gotta sprinkle that good ole angst in e v e r y w h e r e
> 
> Side Note: Originally, Sparda and Nero were going to visit Redgrave, but then I realized we still need Nero and Sparda bonding time and Nero still doesn't know he's Sparda's grandson... So have this instead!

After promising Sparda to meet him in the forest by morning, Nero made his way back home; however, he never did end up making it back to Kyrie and Credo.

One-minute Nero was walking back home to Credo and Kyrie, and then next thing he knew, he was knocked out cold and woke up here, in some sort of laboratory. Surrounded by computers, potions, and various tools he could only guess the names of. Nero’s breath was caught in his throat and his heart pounded rapidly against his chest as he realized he was restrained against an operating table. 

Nero’s brain was telling him to do something, anything to escape while he was still alone; to struggle against his bindings and use his newly acquired arm to break apart his restrains. But like a deer in the headlights, Nero couldn’t move a single muscle. And then he heard it.

Heavy, methodical footsteps approaching. 

With each hefty footstep, Nero’s heartbeat became faster and faster. Just like that day Kyrie and Credo’s parents died fear found its way into Nero’s head. It brought raspy whispers of pain and sorrow. It told his breath to hold, his arms and legs to go limp, his stomach to lurch in his chest. It purred in satisfaction towards his building tension. No matter what Nero did, or what he tried to think of he couldn’t silence the voice in his head.

“You shall be my next subject of experimentation, so that I can learn a little something from you… and that arm.”

Nero could barely choke out a scream as two lances suddenly pierced his shoulders. The pain was unbearable. It burned like an invisible flame against his skin. Nero could feel himself struggle against his bindings as he tried to curl into a fetal position. But all he could do was writhe against whatever was holding him down, an occasional wail escaping his lips and echoing off the walls.

“There is much to learn from such a profound devil arm.”

A sword hovered over his chest, quickly descending as Nero’s panic rose, then—

Blue eyes snapped open and immediately slammed shut as he was blinded by a bright white light. All of Nero’s thoughts were jumbled up in his head like the winds during a harsh storm. So many thoughts, fears, questions, and pain swarmed around in his mind leaving him unable to comprehend his situation.

What just—where was—didn’t that man—the swords—his shoulders—

Nero cracked his eyes open for a second time and glanced down at where he was once pinned down to a table, only for him to see perfectly normal shoulders. Not only that, but he wasn’t restrained. He wasn’t even in a laboratory and was instead in the middle of a meadow...?

Was that all a dream? The stuttering scientist? The sword that freed him (She called herself Yamato if Nero remembered correctly)? Sparda coming to rescue him? 

Or… is all of this a dream? What if he was still there? In the laboratory? Being experimented on? That was the only explanation for this, right?

Tears welled up in Nero’s eyes as his heart ached with sorrow. This was the dream. It had to be. He blacked out from the pain and was now here. After all, he was all by himself and fully healed. There was no way his wounds would have been able to heal this quickly, and if Sparda saved him, he would have been here, right by Nero’s side. But he wasn’t. Because Nero was alone.

In the end, he was always alone. 

Nero curled into himself as his tears burst through like water spilling from a dam. His chin trembled in a way it hadn’t since he was a smaller child who realized his parents never loved him. Whimpers clawed their way out of Nero’s chest as his mind fed him images of all the eerie and horrid mutations that would befall him under the cold observation of the scientist.

A gentle hum for his right arm was the only warning Nero got before he was engulfed in a pair of warm arms.

“I must apologize for leaving you my sweet, sweet grandson.” A voice softly called to Nero, guiding him out of his warring thoughts. “I was keeping watch and could not risk moving you in fear of tampering Yamato’s progress.”

This wasn’t fair. Why would his mind do this to him? Had Nero not already suffered enough? Did his dreams really have to mock him like this? All Nero ever wanted was to be loved, and here come his dreams, ready to tear down any semblance of hope he might have had. A harsh sob wracked through Nero’s body as he tried to push away from the arms holding him still.

The arms holding Nero shifted so that one pressed his head against a sturdy chest while the other gently supported his back. Nero’s fists grabbed onto the coat of the man holding him as he sobbed and spoke in broken fragments, “Sparda? But I was alone— There wasn’t—The swords were—Yamato didn’t—”

“Shshsh,” Sparda interrupted the younger boy’s breakdown and tenderly ran his fingers through Nero’s hair. “It’s alright now little one. All is well. I will not leave you alone again.” Nero’s right arm hummed soothingly, almost as if to tell Nero to listen to the man before him.

Nero closed his eyes and let himself bask in Sparda’s warm and heartwarming nature. Maybe he wasn’t dreaming after all. This feeling of security wasn’t something that could be easily replicated. This warmth felt as real and genuine as when Nero first found out he was going to be fostered. Nero couldn’t recreate this feeling even if he wanted to due to his few and far between times experiencing it. This was real. He was sure of it.

_‘I will not leave you alone again.’_

Like water to flames, relief doused any lingering fears Nero had. He wasn’t alone anymore. This wasn’t a dream. Sparda really did save him. Nero found himself curling up in Sparda’s tender arms relishing in the comfort and assurance Sparda gave him. Listening to Sparda’s methodical and pacifying heartbeat, Nero’s sobs gradually lessened as the elder demon continued to rub calming circles on Nero’s back. 

The two just stayed like that for a while, Sparda cradling Nero in his arms like a baby kitten. Relaxing in the presence and warmth of the other. Neither wishing to break the calming silence between them; Both desired to enjoy the break from the anguish they faced the previous day. When Nero finally felt his tears drying, he meekly mumbled out, “ ‘m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“I’m uh- I’m sorry about your coat. There’s probably snot all over it now.”

Sparda let out a hearty chuckle as a fond smile graced his face. “Nothing that can’t be fixed I assure you.” 

Before the guilt and embarrassment of Nero’s breakdown could catch up to him, Nero was quick to change the topic. When he was sure his voice wouldn’t crack, Nero quietly asked, “who’s Vergil.”

Vergil was the first thing Yamato said when she appeared in his hand back at the laboratory. Nero had entirely forgotten about the details of his encounter with the sword, only now being able to recall the events due to the safety Sparda’s presence alluded. He could still feel Yamato in his right arm, he remembered her saying she needed some time to fully heal before she would be able to manifest again. The last thing she said before her indefinite silence was to trust Sparda.

Sparda’s eyes softened as he unwrapped his arms from Nero and stared down at his face. “Vergil is my son, and your father.” 

Nero’s face blanked, like the cogs in his brain were turning, trying to process what Sparda had just told him. Soon after, Nero furrowed his brows in confusion. Vergil was Sparda’s son… and his father? But that would mean—

Sparda was his grandfather?!?

It was then that Nero remembered the first words he heard upon waking up: _‘I must apologize for leaving you my sweet, sweet grandson’_ A warm, almost fluttery feeling filled Nero’s chest as he was felt an overwhelming wave of relief crash through him. Nero finally had a family to call his own. While that didn’t erase all the suffering he had gone through during his years at the orphanage, it did provide him with hope for a better future. After years of waiting for his family to find him, followed by years of heartache at the realization that his family never wanted him, he’s finally found someone he thought abandoned him all those years ago. 

Nero’s thoughts quickly spiraled from there. 

What was he supposed to call Sparda? He couldn't call his Saviour! But grandfather felt weirdly formal. Grandpa? No, that sounded to backwater. Pops? Don’t people call their fathers that? Nono? What, no! What was he a kid! No. He was almost 10! Nero wasn’t a little kid anymore! 

What about gramps? Huh. Gramps fit. Gramps it is then.

“Do you know where he is?” Nero asked the older devil, his tone much brighter than it was when he first found Sparda. In response, Sparda frowned and looked down at Nero’s arm. “I’m afraid not. I will admit I am a bit concerned as to why Yamato is not with him.”

A soft chuckle escaped Sparda’s lips as a faraway look settled in his eyes. “He would never let Dante anywhere near it. Regardless, I do believe Yamato knows of your father’s whereabouts. We will just have to wait for her to regain enough strength to materialize.”

Nero glanced back down at his arm. His forearm was almost completely covered in dark blue scale-like skin, with glowing blue streaks spreading down the middle. The blue light glowed gently, almost as if Yamato was agreeing with Sparda’s assessment. A sudden thought popped into Nero’s head as an excited grin split his face.

“Do you think you could—uh—train me on how to use my arm?” Nero bashfully asked as he brushed the top of his nose using his left hand. Sparda hummed, clearly pleased with Nero’s new interest in his arm.

“An excellent idea! We shall train you on the way.”

This took Nero by surprise. “On the way? Where are we going?”

“To Temen-Ni-Gru. It was where I sealed most of my power in a sword, and I fear if we are to find Vergil and Dante, I will need to restore as much of my power as possible.” This confused Nero even more. It wasn’t like they had a car. It would take way to long to walk anywhere, especially if they were going to train along the way.

Almost as if sensing his grandson’s thoughts, Sparda transformed into his demonic self leaving the younger part devil to stare up at him in awe. Nero couldn’t stop the ‘Woah’ that came out of his mouth as Sparda knelt down beside him. Spreading out his wings, Sparda gestured from Nero to hop onto his back. Without a single ounce of hesitation, Nero hopped onto Sparda’s back and held on tightly to the elder devil’s neck.

Once sure Nero was secure on his back, Sparda stood up and launched himself into the air.

Screams of excitement slipped through Nero as he hollered in anticipation. The wind pushed past Nero as Sparda flew through the sky. It caressed Nero’s skin, bringing about a sense of freedom that he never felt before in his life. The wind tousled Nero’s hair all over his face, yet it never bothered him for long. How could it when it brought him nothing but sheer bliss (did his father ever get to experience this too)?

Nero thought he knew what freedom and exhilaration felt like, and boy was he wrong! Nothing could ever top this! Was this how Sparda felt whenever he flew around? Nero let out a shriek of glee and held on tighter when Sparda did a somersault in the air.

Clouds surrounded him, coating the young part-devil in a mist of its vapor. In fact, if Nero tried hard enough, he bet he could just reach out and— 

Without even realizing what he did, a giant blue specter hand reach out and grabbed a handful of clouds. At the sight of contact, both it and the cloud it tried to grasp faded away. DID HE JUST DO THAT!?!

Sparda’s lighthearted laughter was all Nero got in response as he tried to bring forth the specter hand once again. Biting his lip and closing his eyes in concentration, Nero tried to imagine the appearance of the giant hand while aiming his right arm towards a nearby cloud.

Excitement coursed through Nero’s veins as he saw the giant blue arm close onto yet another cloud before fading away. So that’s what the arm did! It summoned a really cool, really big specter arm! It may not have lasted very long, but that fact alone wasn’t enough to damper Nero’s joy.

Shortly after being able to consistently summon his specter arm, Sparda suggested some target practice. Before Nero could even ask how he was going to practice when his targets kept disappearing upon contact, Sparda summoned five purple specter swords circling around them. Nero’s grin stretched unbearably wide as he reached out to collect them.

By the time Nero caught two of the swords, the other three changed up their patterns. Some flying below Sparda and others floating just beyond Nero’s range. Nero managed to catch the one below him, which left him with two more swords to get.

A sudden idea flashed through Nero’s brain as he caught sight of a sword hovering above him. Grabbing onto the sword with his specter arm, Nero used it to nudge the sword further away from him closer. Nero felt his chest puff in pride as the sword got closer. And Sister Xista always lectured him about his ‘shenanigans would never help him out! 

“Gonna have to try harder than that gramps!”

The rest of the flight followed a similar pattern. Sparda would summon swords and Nero would try to catch them all. It was a fun and engaging activity for the two of them, that they hadn’t even realized all the time that passed. Before they knew it, Sparda caught sight of (a raised) Temen-Ni-Gru.

Grabbing Nero from his back and holding him in his arm, Sparda rushed to the risen tower. The exhilaration of their flight forgotten and was quickly replaced with worry and anxiousness. Nero had no idea what the significance of the tower was and silently cursed himself for never paying attention to any of Sparda’s legends. All he could make out from Sparda were mumbled: ‘Force Edge’, ‘The Amulets’, ‘Dante and Vergil couldn’t have’, ‘Eva wouldn’t let’, and ‘the demons’.

Nero frowned. Okay, he knew Force Edge (that was Sparda’s sword), and Dante and Vergil (his sons). But who was Eva? And what did an amulet have to do with this? A series of emotions Nero couldn’t pin down flashed through Sparda’s face until a gazed look settled down in his eyes. Nero had a feeling Sparda didn’t know as much as Nero thought he did. Maybe the people living nearby would know.

Nero’s right arm glowed softly. Even without words, Nero knew it was Yamato telling him to comfort Sparda. His grandfather has already done so much for Nero, it only makes sense that he helps him out as well! Mustering all the determination he could, Nero tugged on Sparda’s leg, breaking the devil out of his trance.

“Maybe we can ask the people living nearby? I mean most of the city looks destroyed, but they're bound to be some people who still live here.” Sparda flashed Nero a relieved smile as he nodded his head. “Thank you for the suggestion, Nero. Before we search for survivors, would it be alright with you if we looked through the tower?”

Nero gazed uncertainly at the eerie tower and couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread growing within him. Even though Nero had his cool new arm, he wasn’t very good at using it just yet, and well… he couldn’t really defeat a demon even if he tried. But he was with Sparda. And even with most of his power sealed away, he was still bound to be powerful.

Blue eyes locked onto Sparda’s face as Nero nodded his head. Sparda gentle ruffled Nero’s hair and spoke softly, “you are being very brave Nero. Do not worry, I will protect you from any harm.” That helped bolster Nero’s spirits a bit. Flashing Sparda an uneasy smile, Nero gripped onto the older devil’s hand and the two made their way into the tower.

The two walked quite a bit. The musky air prickled against Nero’s skin as his senses were placed on high alert. Moss took over the cool stone walls. Piles of ash and dried blood were scattered along the walls and floors of the tower, making it more and more apparent that someone once fought demons here. Hopefully, Nero found himself thinking, they managed to clear them all out. Nero had a gripe to pick with the doors though! Every time a door was opened a wave of dust attacked Nero's nose causing him to sneeze very often (and no it was a quiet cute sneeze!).

Along the way, Sparda kept mumbling about missing Devil Arms he had once sealed away in the tower. Nero found himself reassuring Sparda that maybe whoever took his Devil Arms couldn’t find Force Edge. Sparda just chuckled at Nero and continued to guide them through the tower. Many walls of the rooms and corridors that Nero passed by were filled with bullet holes almost as if to remind Nero that an intense fight had taken place in the tower. Their footsteps echoing across the empty halls along with the occasional dripping of blood that had yet to dry were the only sounds that filled Nero's ears. 

To Sparda’s dismay, Force Edge was gone. And he had no idea who could have possibly undone the seal of the tower. While it wouldn’t have been hard for someone to get his blood (Sparda’s heart tightened at the thought of either of his sons getting harmed in the process), he was sure that the priestess whose blood was also used did not have any descendants. Nothing he could do about it now he supposed. Figuring there was nothing left to find, Sparda shifted back into his human appearance as he and Nero walked aimlessly to the first house they could find.

Fortunately, it didn’t take very long to find a family who survived the incident. While the husband was hesitant to share what transpired, the wife was much more forthcoming about what happened. She mentioned that after four people entered the tower, shockwaves and demons quickly overwhelmed the city reducing it to rubble. Most residents of the city were quick to evacuate (including her family), and only came back after the tower was fully raised. Her family, in particular, had managed to make it back in time to see a young woman with a very large weapon strapped against her back and a young man in a red coat with white hair walking away from the tower.

The description of the young man immediately caused Sparda to choke on his breath as Nero tried his best to pat the elder devil’s back. Sparda was quick to regain his composure and thank the family for their time. When asked if they wanted to stay for dinner, Sparda politely declined. After putting enough distance between the house and themselves, Sparda was quick to transform back into his demonic form.

“We must hurry to Redgrave. Eva will know what to do.” Nero quickly climbed onto Sparda’s back and tightly wrapped his arms around the devil’s neck.

For some reason, Nero knew the flight to their new destination wasn’t going to be as bright as it once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kid you not, while writing the flight scene I was listening to Neverending Story LOL


	4. The House in Redgrave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparda realizes just how much time passed while he was gone and what the implications of being away from his family for that long were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, this was supposed to be a Nero-centric fic, but then Sparda kinda just... hijacked the story and now it's centered around him?!?! Like whattttt?!? 
> 
> Most Odd. ;A;

Questions swarmed around Sparda’s mind like winds before a bad tornado as he rushed back to his house in Redgrave. Temen-Ni-Gru was raised. Why? His Devil Arms were gone. Why? The demons he sealed to guard the tower were defeated. By whom? A white-haired man with a red coat was seen walking away. Dante? But what business did Dante have with the tower?

Then there was the case of Yamato and his elder son. Why was she not with Vergil? Nero is surely Vergil’s son. Why would Vergil leave him alone in Fortuna? Sparda always thought Vergil to be more responsible and mature form the twins. He doubts Vergil would have left his son alone without a good reason. And what of Eva? She wouldn’t have let either of the twins rise Temen-Ni-Gru. Nor would she let Vergil simply leave his son abandoned on Fortuna of all places. 

Eva. His sweet, beautiful, caring, precious, spitfire. Gods he missed her. Her gentle yet comforting touch. Her soft yet firm words of wisdom. Her carefree yet contagious laughter. The need to get to his wife was the only thing keeping Sparda together after the revelation of a risen Temen-Ni-Gru.

Sparda couldn’t help the unease that was quickly building up uncontrollably. So much has changed. So much time has passed. His mind was racing thousands of miles a minute. His nerves pumping through his veins as if they were his blood themselves. But worst of all were the images his mind constructed. 

The house destroyed. Mate laying dead in the center of the house. Nestlings remaining unmoving by her side. The scent of death, carnage, and of Mundus’s demons reeking the once docile home. Almost as if sensing Sparda’s dark musings, Nero gently stroked Sparda’s back. His voice was soft but determined. “We’ll find them. If we could find each other, we can find them too.”

Such simple, child-like innocence and naivety his grandsons speaks of. But perhaps that is what Sparda must believe. After all, the uncertainty of his rebellion led to him finding Eva and eventually having two bright, beautiful sons; and how could he forget his trip to Fortuna which led him straight to Nero.

Despite Nero’s attempt towards cheering the older devil, Sparda couldn’t help the dread within him continuing to grow, albeit at a slower rate than before. Still, Nero’s presence provided a much-needed distraction from Sparda’s darker thoughts. Sparda turned his head so that he could look at his grandson. 

“Thank you, Nero. I suppose the time has come where even I—”

Before Sparda could finish his sentence, he instinctively grabbed hold of Nero’s smaller more fragile, less demon, easily killed frame and covered his body protectively as a flash of red lightning charged after the two. As soon as the initial lighting attack passed, Sparda was able to make out a very familiar air-born demon giving them chase.

Griffon.

One of Mundus’s most powerful and loyal demons. If Sparda had all his power, he could have easily ended the threat. However, as he is right now the most he can do is scare the demon off. Nero squirmed in his arms, trying to catch a glance at their pursuer. Sparda couldn’t let Griffon know about Nero. If Mundus were to find out about Nero… 

Summoning several of his swords, Sparda was quick to launch them towards the demon chasing them. It served as a poor distraction, but a handful of the swords managed to lodge themselves into Griffon’s eye, his right-wing, and one found its way into his mouth. The demon let out a pained shriek as he sent more bolts of red lightning towards Sparda.

Knowing he only had one chance, Sparda concentrated on the bolts rapidly approaching him. Static from the lightning caused Sparda’s hair to stick out. Right before it could make contact with Sparda, he reflected the bolts back to Griffon.

“I WILL COME BACK FOR YOU SPARDA!” Griffon howled as he fell towards the ground. Not looking back, Sparda quickly picked up the pace and rushed back to his old home. He needed to get Eva and the boys to safety. He didn’t know where that would be. He just knew he had to get to them before Griffon brought news of his return to Mundus.

Nero must have felt his unease as he began to twitch in Sparda’s arms. Had it been another day, following different circumstances, Sparda would have enlightened Nero on the demonic encounter. But having a run-in with one of Mundus’s top generals would unsettle anyone. While Nero’s safety will always be one of Sparda’s priorities, his knowledge in the situation was unfortunately not something Sparda wished to concern himself with for the time being. Sparda promised the part devil he would answer his questions once they reached home.

* * *

It was shortly after their encounter with Griffon that Sparda finally came across a familiar setting. Sparda first noticed the ravished park where a younger Dante and Vergil would play and spar together. Sparda’s heart immediately sank into his chest. Perhaps it was just the park, Sparda tried to convince himself. Eva would still be sitting on their porch as she watched Dante and Vergil spar against one another.

With only a few feet between him and his house, Sparda glided towards the ground, Nero still in his arms. He shifted back to his human persona and ran towards his home. And when he finally caught sight of the house, his heart stopped.

_“This seems like the perfect place to settle down, wouldn’t you agree, Legendary Dark Knight Sparda?” Eva’s infectious laugh brought a warm chuckle out of Sparda as he hugged her from behind. He pressed a soft kiss against the nape of her neck and hummed, “if you believe it is adequate, then I have no complaints, my dear.”_

No.

_“Honey, can you get the bit by the ceiling up there.” Sparda gazed at where his wife pointed at. There was a small patch of unpainted wall. Plucking the red paintbrush from her hands Sparda brought forth his wings and flew towards the section needing paint. Once he coated the wall in enough paint he got back down and stood by Eva’s side. He lifted her into the air and spun her in his arms. Their laughs echoed off the walls of their freshly painted house. Soon enough, their family will grow by two._

The house. It was completely and utterly destroyed.

“Gramps?”

_“Hey dad! When are you gonna give us our swords!”_

_“Would you stop being such a kid Dante? Father will give us our swords when he believes us to be ready.” Vergil sends a pointed glare towards his brother as he smirks, “I’ll probably get it sooner. Since I’m much more responsible than you.”_

_A hearty laugh slipped Sparda’s lips as he got down to his knees and rested his hands on his son’s heads. “You’ll get your swords soon enough. For now, Eva has made some of her butterscotch pie, and I for one am absolutely famished.” Dante and Vergil grinned at each other._

_“Race ya”_

With shaky legs, Sparda approached what remained of the house, only to be met with an overwhelming scent of blood and demise.

_Sparda tenderly kissed the foreheads of his sons and wife, gazing down at them with an emotion he didn’t think he would ever have the pleasure of experiencing. So this is love. The one thing that set demons apart from human. This is the sentiment that fuels them. Powers their actions. Gives them hope and something to live for. Something to fight for. Sparda’s heart swelled with warmth as he curled protectively around his mate and nestlings._

_No matter what, he would protect them with his life._

For the first time in his life, Sparda’s knees gave out for reasons other than pure exhaustion from battle.

_Sparda clutched his chest in mock pain as he exaggerated his fall towards the ground. “Oh dear. I have been wounded by my own son.” Dante let out a loud cheer as he threw his hands in the air in victory. Vergil, who was sitting on the porch with Eva, simply looked up from his book to roll his eyes at his brother’s antic before going back to reading his William Blake poems. Eva laughed at her younger son and congratulated him with a crushing hug._

He was too late. But perhaps his family survived! The house could have been destroyed as an escape attempt! Eva and the boys may still be alive. Sparda still had a chance to—

It was at that exact moment that Sparda saw it. A thin, polished, slab of stone by the side of the house.

Eva  
Wife to a devil who left her  
Mother to sons too weak to protect her  
A treasure taken from this world by a bastard with a 2000-year grudge 

Sparda was suddenly overwhelmed by emotions he didn’t know he could feel.

“Sparda?”

_Sparda had just finished tucking his sons into bed and was preparing to leave the room when he felt a tug on the bottom of his coat. Looking back, he saw his elder son looking up at his. Ice blue eyes were wide in fear as Vergil whispered, “are you sure Mundus won’t come for us?”_

_Sparda gave him a soft smile as he stroked his son’s hair, “I assure you, Mundus will bring you no harm as long as I am here.”_

The most obvious was the burning hot rage building up inside him. Towards Mundus who sent his minions to massacre his mate and nestlings. Towards the humans who sealed him away, leaving his family defenseless. Towards himself for being unable to save them. The anger flooded through his veins, pulsing fiercely, red hot. He was intoxicated by his hatred towards Mundus, humans, the world, blaming them all for taking away the one thing he treasured the most. It was easy to hate. To let the fury consume him so that he wouldn’t have to feel anything else. But life didn’t care about what Sparda wanted.

_Dante and Vergil both looked down at their respective swords._

_“Woah!” “No way!”_

_Vergil laughed as Dante struggled to fully lift Rebellion. The younger twin stuck his tongue out towards his brother before finally managing to get his sword off the ground. He then laughed at his brother whose arms shook trying to keep his katana straight in the air. They both then looked at Sparda and spoke in unison, “You’ll train us, right?”_

_Sparda gave his sons a warm smile and ruffled their hair. “Of course.”_

He felt a sorrow run so deep within him that it drowned him. Never again would he be able to listen to Eva’s nurturing voice as she sang to him. Never again would he be able to see her beautiful, kind face as she smiled and laughed for him. Never again would he be able to feel her soft touches. Her entire existence was reduced to that of Sparda’s memories. The pain coursing through Sparda was worse than even the gravest of wounds. Those wounds always healed in time, but this? This heartache? This powerlessness? This grief? There was no healing it. There was no recovering from it. He couldn’t even feel the tears streaming down his face as they blurred his vision.

_“There has been a surge of demonic activity in Fortuna.” Eva frowned at him as she took a bite out of the pizza in her hands. Her face wrinkled as she put it back down on her plate, mumbling about how there wasn’t enough sauce. “I will be back in time for dinner.” An almost mischievous smile graced her lips as she held out her pink finger, “promise?”_

_Sparda intertwined his finger with hers. “I promise.” Eva gazed deep into Sparda’s eyes as if searching for assurance. She then nodded her head and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek. “If you’re not back by dinner I will be very cross.”_

_Sparda chortled, “I wouldn’t keep a lady waiting.”_

Then there was the guilt. The infinite, ever-growing, never-ending guilt. It ate away at his thoughts. Mocking his every decision. Showcasing all his failures. Cursing his mistakes. Spitefully bringing all his regrets to the surface. The guilt burned through his chest in a way that differed from his anger. He could tap into the anger to gain strength and get revenge, but this fire? The fire from his guilt? It was as if it drained Sparda to continue to burn. The guilt was so much worse than the anger and sorrow. 

_Sparda climbed into bed beside his wife, waking Eva up in the process. “Long day?” She asked gingerly. Sparda couldn’t bring himself to produce more than a hum as his answer. Eva turned towards him, brushing his hair from his face and taking off his monocle. “Then just rest. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”_

_Eva snuggled with Sparda in their shared bed as Sparda softly kissed the top of her head, “I love you.” Eva offered him a small smile and yawned before replying, “I love you more.” The two shared a quiet laugh before slowly drifting off to sleep._

But more than anything, Sparda felt so drained. He was completely exhausted. This mental exhaustion was so much worse than he expected. Was there any point in continuing? He granted humanity freedom and peace. Wasn’t that his only goal? His mate was dead; his nestlings most likely followed her to the afterlife. Eva and his sons were the only reason he pushed through every day.

Seeing his boys grow. Sharing tender moments with Eva. Researching with Vergil. Sparing with Dante. Cooking with Eva.

He couldn’t do any of that. He will never be able to experience any of that again outside of his dreams. All he had left of his family were few memories and a destroyed home. Was this truly the end of him? The death of his family? He was expecting war filled with bloodshed and carnage to be his undoing. Not this. Not losing his loved ones.

Sparda tilted his head towards the sky, only now noticing the cloud-filled sky and rain pouring all around him. How long has it been raining for? How did he not notice such a heavy downpour? Did it matter? Sparda couldn’t help but feel like this was a sign that even the world wept with him over the loss of Eva. 

“SPARDA!”

It was then that he realized he wasn’t alone.

Tears of frustration filled Nero’s eyes as Sparda looked up at his grandson. Since when was Nero taller than him? Sparda’s face was pressed against Nero’s chest as he finally felt small, yet warm arms wrap around his head. It took Sparda longer than he cared to admit for him to realize what his grandson was doing. Was Nero… hugging him?

“I’m, uh, I’m not too good at comforting people, or well… knowing what to say.” Nero started, hesitantly. “Kyrie always said the best way to help is to make sure they know they’re not alone.” Nero unwrapped his arms from Sparda and looked him straight in the eyes.

So, uh, if you need to—you know—cry, I’ll be here. If you need to talk, I’ll be here. Or if you want to ignore it, I can, uh, distract you.” But then Nero frowned and mumbled, “but Kyrie says you shouldn’t ignore your problems, so you shouldn’t do that… Not that I’m saying you can’t do that—it’s just that you shouldn’t.”

Mustering all the energy he could, Sparda forced a tight smile, “thank you little one, I will try to ‘cheer up’.” Nero gave him a pointed look, and Sparda knew Nero didn’t believe him. Shaking his head, Nero grabbed Sparda’s hand and dragged him back to Eva’s grave.

Nero squatted down in front of it, just staring at it. Sparda’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what Nero had done while Sparda broke down. Various bright wildflowers surrounded the grave. Columbines were placed evenly across the grave, while irises were placed directly in front of the stone. Where had Nero found the time to collect all these flowers? Had Sparda been trapped in his thought for that long?

A lingering silence spread between them. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as Sparda would have assumed it to be. It seemed more like a place holder of sorts. For both him and Nero to gather their thoughts. It was something Sparda needed to try to calm down his racing emotions. 

“I know it isn’t the same thing… but I kinda get how it feels.” Nero spoke up after some time. “Sure, I wasn’t fostered by Kyrie and Credo’s family for long, but it was enough that I felt like part of their family. When their parents died, I was angry at The Order and the demons, and you, and myself… I felt hurt in a way I hadn’t felt since I realize I was abandoned…”

Ice blue softened as they gazed up at Sparda. “But then I met you. Just realizing I had a family—it gave me hope, you know? I’m not a hundred percent over their deaths, but knowing I have a family out there, knowing that there are still people who love me for me… it’s enough.”

Warmth swelled into Sparda’s battered and shriveling heart. So, unlike the fire of rage and guilt that had consumed him mere moments ago, this one burned softly. It was like a gentle reassurance of hope filled his body. His grandson had a point. Eva may be gone—and the pain of that may never heal—but he did still have a reason for living another day. He had Nero. His cute little grandson, whom he has come to treasure more than he thought he would.

Nero offered Sparda a small smile, almost as if he could sense the change in Sparda’s mindset and was instantly relieved. Determination filled his voice as Nero got onto his feet. “We can still find your sons, right? I mean, one of them had to have made this grave.”

Sparda wanted to hit himself for not realizing something so painfully obvious. Of course! His sons could very well still be alive! They could be needing his help for all he knew. Yet here he was wallowing in his self-pity and despair. Sparda was willing to thank any and all Gods for allowing him to find Nero.

Lifting Nero up in his arms, the corners of Sparda’s lips twitched up as he cleared his throat and spoke, “I am truly indebted to you Nero. I fear I would have lost my way without your steady guidance.”

Nero’s eyes widened comically wide as a dark blush dusted his cheeks. Sparda had to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat as Nero wiggled in his arms in an attempt to escape Sparda’s hold. The young part-devil stammered porously, reminding Sparda of Vergil whenever he would receive a compliment.

Finally managing to form full sentences, Nero was quick to brush off Sparda’s gratitude, “you’ve helped me, and I’ve helped you. That’s what family does, right?” Sparda hummed in agreement as he put Nero down on the ground beside him.

Nero shifted his gaze back towards the small grave. He looked back and forth between Sparda and the stone several times before Sparda understood his nonverbal question. A fond look settled on Sparda's face as he sat down before the grave, gesturing for Nero to sit on his lap.

After another round of embarrassing stammering, Sparda finally managed to convince Nero to sit on his lap as he told his grandson about his grandmother and the type of life Sparda lead before the two met one another. He retold accounts of Dante’s pranks against his brother, or Vergil’s attempts at annoying his brother in vengeance.

And if the rain lightened up, leaving the sun free to shine down on the devil and his grandson, neither of the two were any wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some obvious creative liberties in this. I always thought Dante would have gone back to the house at some point and made a burial for his mom (knowing how much he loved her) and so here it is.
> 
> Then there's Sparda's powers. I based it around Dante's Royal Guard. I was thinking maybe Sparda has something like that, where if he can parry the attack right before it lands, he could reflect it back. He doesn't have a sword yet and I need to give him SOME fighting abilities so...


	5. Trip To The Marketplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the revelation of Eva's death, Nero and Sparda spend some time making peace with their past, and finally searching for the rest of their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this early chapter brought to you by my inability to concentrate on my course work for more than 30 min at any given time.

Nearly two weeks had passed since Sparda found Nero in Fortuna and the two made it to the destroyed house in Redgrave. Upon Nero’s suggestion, they started to repair the house, restoring what they could and changing what they couldn’t. It had taken them a week before the house was inhabitable and another three days for them to be satisfied with their furnishings and living space. Building the house seemed to be the perfect way to test Nero’s limits for his specter arm (he really needed a better name for it).

Sparda called on some old favors he was owed getting him and Nero more than enough money to pay for materials to rebuild the house along with buying any appliances and pieces of furniture they fancied. Although neither Nero nor Sparda knew what they needed, they thought they had the most of what they needed. There was food in the pantries and fridge. Sparda called on an old contact of his to fix up the furnishing and plumbing for the house. Now they just had to work on the landscaping.

Nero worked on the garden, while Sparda attempted to tackle the overgrown grass. The first thing Nero turned his attention to was Eva’s grave. Although he placed flowers around her grave, he felt like there had to be something else he could do. Maybe there were some pictures spared from the attack on the house that he could decorate the grave with.

Going back into the house, Nero couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and warmth fill his chest. The house was already in a much better shape than it had been when he and Sparda first encountered it. The walls were re-painted vibrant shades of red, blue, purple, and pastel. 

They got fabric curtains forever window accompanied by little ledge plants; when Nero asked about Sparda’s insistence on having plants, he gave the younger part-devil sad smile and told him Eva loved plants. And well, Nero couldn’t bring himself to turn Sparda down after saying that. Unfortunately, the plants Sparda looked after died a few days after purchase, leaving Nero to buy some more and taking care of the rest.

All the appliances were just ones recommended to them by sales agents. Sparda had been hesitant about purchasing them, even he was aware of how sales agents tried to sell off their more expensive products. But they had the money to purchase them, and neither knew much about appliances so their options were limited. 

Then there was the matter of food. There was a lot of taking out being ordered before Sparda and Nero finally had their kitchen ready. Between the two devils, neither knew how to cook a proper meal.

Sparda could barely cook an omelet without burning the poor thing, and Nero never really learned how to cook from Kyrie or her mother. Both realized that while Sparda didn’t need to consume food, Nero was still more human than devil and required at least one balanced meal a day. So they went with the next best thing and bought a cookbook. While the cashier of the closest grocery store assured them it was beginner-friendly, Nero and Sparda both had enough experiences of almost burning down the house to disprove her statement. 

For a few days, Nero lived off of instant noodles, garlic bread, cereal, and grilled cheese sandwiches Thankfully, after many, many failed attempts, Nero and Sparda managed to properly cook meat, giving them access to meat-filling sandwiches and salads (it was a real game-changer! Now Nero didn’t have to worry about food poisoning while eating something filling). They were even feeling confident enough to try making mashed potatoes for dinner that night!

Nero headed straight to the storage room he and Sparda formed on the second floor. There were three bedrooms upstairs. Sparda and Nero sharded one; neither willing to be separated from the other after all they had lost and been through. The bedroom next to theirs was Dante and Vergil’s sharded bedroom before both thought they were too old to share one. The storage room had been Vergil’s old room.

Entering the room, Nero tried his best to weave around the boxes and tower of items they recovered throughout the house. They managed to find some books that remained unscathed, a handful of which were old photo albums. Sparda’s relief upon finding them was unparalleled to anything Nero had ever seen or felt. They managed to find some toys, tools, blankets, and quilts Eva made that survived and kept them in the storage room. There was a lot of organizing to do, but Nero couldn’t bring himself to touch any of them until Sparda had a chance to look through them all.

Nero couldn’t help but feel melancholy looking at all these things from Sparda’s life before him. He could still vividly remember Sparda’s face as he was overtaken by despair. He could still remember the sense of helplessness that overcame him as he called out to Sparda, trying his best to snap Sparda out of his grief-struck spiral. He could still feel Sparda’s warm tears soaking his shirt despite the rain; how he trembled in Nero’s arms as Nero spared no effort comforting him.

It wasn’t something he ever wanting either of them to experience again. They dealt with enough loss. Now that they found each other, their patter of losing family has come to an end. From that day forth, they were only going to find members of their family! Yamato had told him that she knew where the younger of the two brothers were. As soon as they finished their business with the house, and Nero was sure Sparda was ready to see his son again, they would visit Capulet City.

There was one thing that bugged Nero about his conversation with Yamato. She didn’t bring up Vergil. At the moment Nero didn’t remember to ask about it, mostly because he was excited to finally meet his uncle. But now he’s had time to calm down and reorganize his thoughts. So he summoned Yamato into physical form.

“Yamato, do you know what happened to my dad.”

At first, Yamato said nothing. She just glowed a soft blue. Then her voice spoke in his mind.

_| There is only so much I know. I believe it is best we consult Dante regarding the manner. I was… unable to protect Vergil. I fear for what he has to endure without me there.” |_

What he has to endure? What did that mean? His dad should be strong enough to fight through hoards of demons, shouldn’t he? Did he not have a cool arm like Nero did? Exactly what kind of danger was he in?

As if reading his thoughts, Yamato spoke softly, _| We were… separated shortly after he fell in hell. I was broken by a powerful demon lord. That is until you restored me, for which I am in your debt for. |_

Dread immediately coursed through Nero. His face paled significantly as he felt his hands twitch unexpectedly. His dad was stuck in hell!?! Hell was a place you could go to without dying? Was he still alive? They need to save him first! Why would Yamato tell them to go to Dante first? As far as Nero knew Dante was fine and ran a devil hunting shop. His dad was in immediate danger! They needed to rescue him immediately!

“Should we tell Sparda, I mean—”

 _| NO! |_ Yamato suddenly screamed in his mind before he finished his sentence. _| We mustn’t inform Lord Sparda of this just yet. It has only been a few weeks since he learned of his mate’s passing. I do not believe he would be able to recover from learning Vergil’s fate. |_

That was… a good point. And not one he could argue with even if he wanted to. But there was still so much she wouldn’t tell him. However, when he tried to ask her anything else of his father’s fate he was met with tight-lipped silence. After enough begging Yamato finally told him that it would be best to get Dante’s side of the story before she further explained hers.

Knowing she wouldn’t give him another answer, Nero relented and promised not to ask about it anymore. He absorbed her back into his arm and turned back to the piles surrounding him.

After a few minutes of searching through the piles of items, Nero finally found what he was looking for. Two framed photos sat on a table before him. One was a portrait of Eva, and the other was a family photo drawn by both the boys. Nodding in satisfaction, Nero grabbed the two photos and summoned his specter wings as he jumped out the nearest window.

The wings were something Nero discovered when he accidentally fell off Sparda’s back when the two were flying to a nearby furniture depot. Sparda nearly had a heart attack out of fear, but Nero couldn’t stop laughing in joy and he managed to bring forth wings of his own. He challenged Sparda to a race to the depot, not even waiting for the elder devil’s response.

They were definitely useful and acted as a second pair of arms for Nero to use. Gliding down to the front of the house, Nero gently put down the photos on opposing sides of the grave. Seemly satisfied with the more personalized gravestone, Nero turned his attention back to Sparda.

Sparda refused to use a lawnmower, opting instead to use his summon swords. Nero found himself protesting in disbelief before Sparda argued he was out of practice and cutting the grass with his swords would help him test out his limits given he is no longer at full power. Nero just sighed and let Sparda do as he pleased.

So far Sparda managed to get most of the lawn in the property. The rest was closer to the outskirts of their home and could be dealt with later. In the meantime, it was time to start preparing dinner! And since they were out of ingredients, they had to go out to buy some.

Sparda had figured shortly after their decision to rebuild the house that they needed to invest in a vehicle. They couldn’t fly to the nearby town every time they needed to get something. It was just too inconvenient and the chances of them being spotted were too high. Instead, Sparda bought a small car. He even considered buying a Nero a car seat, recalling children weighing under 33 kg and shorter than 140cm legally requiring one. Nero insisted he didn’t need one being only 15cm shorter and 5 kg under the restrictions.

They ended up getting the car seat, much to Nero’s embarrassment. 

The drive to the market wasn’t too long, maybe five minutes from their home. They ended up in the market at four in the afternoon and were greeted by a warm, yet not harsh, sun over their heads. The crowd of customers had a life of their own as they weaved through the various stalls, trying to balance their goods to prevent bumping into others. Vibrant colors from cloths and signs caught Nero’s eyes as they shone in the morning light.

He could vaguely overhear chatter between customers and stall owners, the eager gossip between friends meeting up at a nearby café, and even recommendations and advice being shared between strangers. It may have been busy and a bit crowded for Nero’s liking, but he couldn’t help but be in awe at how smoothly everything ran.

The scents of various spices and strong fragrances bombarded Nero’s nose as he tried to find out where the food was from while avoiding the perfume (it was too strong and hurt his nose). He could hear the sizzling of meat from over the various conversations around him and tried to track it down. He felt himself getting a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of things going on at any given moment.

He felt something squeeze his hand and realized that somewhere along the way, Sparda interlocked his hand with Nero’s. It was a comforting and grounding presence in all the noise and crowd. Nero shared a smiled with his grandfather as the two continued their journey through the marketplace.

It was a completely different atmosphere from that of Fortuna. Where Fortuna was more reserved and quieter, here everything was energetic and bustling with vigor. Whenever Nero would visit the market with Kyrie he would always hear whispers of distaste towards Nero, but here, people would call him cute (He wasn’t cute!) and would even give him candy. It took a bit of time to get used to the hustle and bustle of the outskirts of Redgrave, but it was one he took in stride.

Nero was glad he found Sparda. And he was overjoyed at the idea of living here with the older devil for as long as they wanted.

Sparda was quick to guide them towards the stalls containing produce. They passed through stalls selling containers filled with dried fruit and nuts, along with various edible seeds. Sparda had them stop by a station selling meat roasting on skewers, buying one for himself and his grandson. Nero was quick to eat his causing a laugh to erupt from Sparda. Sparda looked down fondly at Nero telling him that if Yamato didn’t resonate with him, his appetite alone would have convinced the older devil Nero was Dante’s son.

When they finally got to the vegetable section of the market, Nero’s eyes bounced all over the place trying to find the potatoes they needed for dinner only to stare at the copious amounts of food around him in astonishment. 

Grandfather and grandson followed the flow and eventually managed to cross everything they needed off their list. Potatoes? A kind elderly couple gave up their pack of yellow potatoes to a desperate Sparda and Nero. Peas? They snagged an amazing deal where they got half off beans with every purchase of a pack of peas! Bread? They got a loaf freshly made. Milk and butter? They already had plenty of those at home along with any salt and seasoning they needed.

With everything they needed for dinner gathered, Sparda proposed enough food to last them a week before they had to come back to get more. With that in mind, the duo ended up loading their car up with various fruits and vegetables along with spices (for when they ran out), cleaning supplies, and snacks.

By the time they got home, both were tired and decided to apply jam and butter to some pieces of bread for dinner. While Sparda didn’t need to eat, he told Nero Eva would have chided him for not setting an example of proper meal etiquette. Nero found it funny of how terrified a demon lord like Sparda was of a human such as Eva. 

As the two washed and dried their plates Nero took a deep breath, mustering his determination. Despite being exhausted, Nero knew that he had to tell Sparda about what he learned earlier that day.

“Uh, gramps.” 

Sparda looked down at his grandson in confusion as he put the last plate on the drying rack. Nero was usually less nervous and hesitant when talking to Sparda since their first meeting. Getting down to Nero’s level, the older devil resting his hands on Nero’s shoulders and spoke softly, “what is it little one?”

Nero stole a quick glance at his arm and then turned his attention back to Sparda.

“Yamato wanted you to know where Dante was. She said we need to go to a store called Devil May Cry in Capulet City.”

* * *

Dante kicked down the doors to Devil May Cry and quickly slammed them shut before collapsing onto the nearest couch. 

His most recent job was an absolute mess. There was an outbreak of Marionettes on a farm on the outskirts of Capulet city and the owner desperately asked Dante to eradicate them before they ruined his fields. Dante, feeling bad for the poor guy, accepted the job despite it being 3 in the Goddamn morning. The Marionettes themselves weren’t the problem, they were easier to kill than Dante initially thought, instead the problem lied in finding the nest. He eventually found it in the barn with most of the farm animals dead as an unfortunate result.

Dante didn’t have it in him to ask for payment from the farmer. He needed all the money he saved up to get more animals. Besides Dante couldn’t sleep anyway, so really it was a win-win; Fewer demons in the world and Dante was tired enough to actually fall asleep.

Sighing, Dante got up and made his way to his bar. He poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp before pouring another shot. He drank it slower this time, making his way towards his old jukebox and turning it on.

Raising the glass of whiskey to his lips, Dante’s eyes glanced at the calendar by the side of his desk and found himself letting out another dejected sigh. It was only a few days before his and Vergil’s birthday. That damn idiot. Why couldn’t he just swallow his pride for once in his life and just take Dante’s hand? It’s been nine years since Temen-Ni-Gru; for all Dante knew, his brother was rotting away in hell. Was he even alive? 

Dante tilted the glass in his hand upwards, only to be disappointed when no alcohol fell into his mouth. He must have drank it without noticing. Shoving the glass on the nearby counter, Dante decided it was time to head to bed. He has another job lined up tomorrow and he’d rather go to it prepared, after all, he still needed money to pay for his bills considering the job he just took was a bust.

Turning the lights and jukebox off, Dante made his way towards the stairs when he suddenly a strong demonic presence near his shop, accompanied by a smaller, less obvious one. The need to sleep immediately disappeared and was replaced with caution. Drawing Ebony and Ivory from their holsters, Dante slowly approached his door.

Demons? But why didn’t they burst through the door? Yeah Dante would appreciate them standing outside and not destroying his shop—he still owed Lady for the new door he had to buy the last time a hoard of demons broke into his office—but still, it was oddly considerate of them. Well, he could think about it once he figured out what they wanted and killed them.

Standing a few feet from his door, Dante yelled out, “Sorry but we’ve closed.”

No response. That was odd, Dante was at least expecting some random demon to rasp out ‘Sparda’. Pointing Ebony at the door, Dante slowly opened it and almost dropped his guns.

Standing in front of him was a devil he thought died nearly twenty years ago.

He immediately slammed the door shut and leaned against it as he ran a hand down his face. There was no way his fucking dad was standing behind the door. It was probably just late, and Dante’s mind was playing tricks on him. Yeah, that sounded about right. 

Dante took a deep breath before releasing it. He turned back around and opened the door.

Nope. His eyes were not playing with him. They were still there. Standing before him was indeed one Sparda and… is that a kid? Did Sparda really just leave him, his brother, and mom to have another fucking kid? But no, the kid kinda reminded him of Vergil…? A Vergil jr? When did Vergil get a kid? Was Vergil out of hell?!?

“What the hell.”

His dad just patted his shoulder firmly and walked inside his shop. The young boy who was practically glued to his side stepping inside with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to be written (。ヘ°) maybe it's become self-aware and knew it was kinda filler-ey and just wanted to get to the next chapter.
> 
> But anyway, I'm really excited to write the next chapter! We finally get to see Dante's perspective!!!


	6. Words Left Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three of the four Spardas have finally been reunited, but that doesn't mean they all get along as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! I was playing through and finished Final Fantasy 15. I got sidetracked with side quests a lot, and when I finished the game >.> well let me just say, tears were shed T^T
> 
> But the chapter is here now, and probably because of FFXV angst sneaked its way here XD

"No, seriously. What the hell?"

Dante roughly closed the door behind him as he turned back to face his father and… cousin? Half-brother? Nephew? The kid looked up at his with icy blue eyes that reminded him so much of his brother that it just wasn’t fair.

“Can we sit down first?”

Dante tried his best to swallow the lump building in his throat as he sharply nodded his head. The youngest of the three looked around the room trying to hide his building disgust with the state of his shop. Which honestly? Fine. Dante doesn’t really bother with keeping the shop clean considering no one other than him lives here or even visits. Most clients call and even Lady only stays long enough to steal his pizza and then leave.

Dante couldn’t help but wince at the disappointed hum that spilled from Sparda’s lips as he too inspected Dante’s place—which wasn’t fair. His dad had no right to judge Dante, considering how short their time together was. He was around for what, less than ten years? Then he disappeared without a word. Leaving him, Verge, and their mom alone and defenseless when Mundus’s goons attacked them

Besides, his place wasn’t THAT bad. 

Needing answers, and more importantly, getting the devil and part devil in front of him to stop judging his living arrangements, Dante spoke up, “you can’t just waltz through my door after 20 years with a kid in tow.”

The kid in question angrily protested that he wasn’t a kid before Sparda rested his hand on the kid’s shoulder, effectively calming him down; it didn’t stop the kid from glaring daggers at Dante though. Dante ignored him and focused his attention on Sparda.

“Mom died. Did you know that? I’ve almost died more than I care to admit. Hell, Vergil’s probably gone off and died somewhere too! All because you left us. Alone. And to what? Pick up another kid?”

Bitterness was quick to fill in Dante. It gathered like dust in the wind. This was the devil responsible for so much of Dante’s grief and misery. All because he was a Son of Sparda, he was burdened with saving humans from demons. With saving humans from idiot humans who only cared to gain Sparda’s powers. With trying and failing to stop his thickheaded brother’s lust for power.

Dante could never live a normal life; all because of Sparda. And he could never hope to. Not with demons coming after him at every turn, craving his blood and death. He didn’t deserve any of this; and despite every logical sense in Dante telling him otherwise, neither did Vergil. And it was all Sparda’s fault.

“My life became a living hell after you abandoned us. Every single person I grew to care about died right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything to save them. Mom, Verge, Nell—” Dante trailed off and ripped his gaze from Sparda.

The older devil didn’t say anything for a long time, and frankly, Dante couldn’t bring himself to say anything more. What was the point? Was he supposed to just cry to Sparda about all his problems, then they’d hug it out and everything would magically get better? Hell no. Since when did life give Dante what he wanted? Chances were this was just some alcohol-induced dream and he’d wake up in the morning on his couch with a killer hangover. 

The devil tried to meet Dante’s gaze. With a grief-stricken face, Sparda uttered with a weak voice, “I must apologize. There is much I must atone for. I have only recently found Nero and discovered the fate that befell Eva. I’m afraid—” Sparda was interrupted by Nero suddenly standing up and stretching his arms out to his sides in front of Sparda, almost as if protecting the older devil from Dante’s harsh gaze. 

“Stop bullying Sparda you jerk! Yamato said you could help, not bully gramps!”

Now that was even more unfair. The kid was defending Sparda from Dante of all people. Sparda was the one who cursed Dante’s life, not the other way around. Dante glared at the kid, who glared back harder. 

Stubborn brat.

“Look kid, this has nothing to do with you. Now why don’t you sit back down and—”

“No! If I stay silent, you’ll just bully Sparda, and he won’t do or say anything to defend himself, just like when I…” A far too solemn look that no kid his age should have filled Nero’s eyes as he looked away for a moment. Speaking from experience maybe? Sparda tried to whisper something in the kid’s ear, but he just shook his head and continued to glare at Dante.

“He never abandoned you or your family. He came to Fortuna to try and stop a demon gate, or something like that. But-but then some people sealed him away. It’s why he couldn’t’ go back. And when he finally came back, he saved me, okay!”

For the first time in Dante’s life, he was left speechless. Too many thoughts and questions swarmed around in his mind as he tried to push them all away. The biggest of which is the fact that his dad never abandoned his family. His mom wasn’t lying when she said Sparda was supposed to be back. While knowing Sparda didn’t leave him and Verge to fend for themselves, Dante was still far too bitter at his dad for the kid’s outburst to fix everything between him and his dad.

Deciding to deal with Sparda later, Dante threw his head into his hands and sucked him a deep breath. He loudly exhaled out of his mouth and looked back up. “Who’s the kid?”

Said kid continued to glare at Dante with hauntingly familiar icy blue eyes refusing to say anything. Sparda took the lead and responded softly, “I believe Nero to be Vergil’s son. However, when he was conceived and who his mother is remains unknown to me.”

Nero huh. Not a bad name. Doubt Vergil would have liked it much (being the pretentious ass he was) but it was a good name. A strong one. 

Taking a good look at Nero, Dante couldn’t help but feel hope swelling within him. A piece of his brother was still here. Right in front of him. And if the way Nero kept glaring at him was any indication, the two of them would get along just fine. He made a side note to never let Nero and Lady meet; the two would definitely team up to antagonize him and there was no way he could handle them both.

Dante never thought the day would come where he would be reunited with his family. He always thought his dad died off somewhere and that he lost the last of his family when Vergil fell into hell. But here was his dad, alive and with his nephew (HOLY SHIT HE HAD A NEPHEW!). Maybe his luck hadn’t abandoned him after all.

“Alright kid lay off the glare. I don’t hate my old man’s guts anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely forgiven.” Nero, upon hearing Dante’s vow, stopped glaring at him and sat back down beside Sparda.

Dante tossed the remote for his tv to Nero (who adorably fumbled with the controller) while walking over to the phone. “Pick a channel. We can watch something while we wait for the pizza.”

Despite it being 3 in the morning, by the grace of God himself, Fredo’s was still open. Dante ordered three large pizza with all the toppings they had (except for the accursed olives). Once his order went through, he made his way to his couch and settled down to the far end so that Nero sat between him and his dad. 

Nero stretched himself out on the sofa, his head resting on Sparda’s lap and his legs laying on top of Dante. He let out a quiet (but adorable) yawn and nuzzled against Sparda’s hand which ran itself through his fluffy looking hair (Dante couldn’t help but want to ruffle his hair). Damnit, the kid was too adorable for his own good. Was Sparda sure he came from Vergil? Knowing his heart probably couldn’t take any more of Nero’s endearing display, Dante directed his attention to the tv.

Maybe Nero was Vergil’s kid after all if his choice in television was any indication. Out of all the content Dante had with his cable, Nero chooses the most boring and information-packed channel he could have possibly chosen. It was Discovery channel. Showcasing some random documentary about bees (bees of all things! Not even lions, or some other cooler animal)!

Dante couldn’t help but snort when he watched someone, probably a member of the documentary crew, get stung by the various bees they surrounded themselves with. Dante felt himself zoning out; his only saving grace being the ringing of his bell, signaling his pizza’s arrival.

Practically leaping out of his seat, Dante ran to his door, wallet in hand, and practically inhaled the pizzas before him. He fished out 20 dollars and handed them over to the delivery guy before grabbing the pizzas and slamming the door shut with his foot.

Dante called out that the pizza arrived only to receive no response. Making his way back to his pseudo-living room, Dante realized why. Between watched the documentary and Dante finally getting the pizza, Nero had fallen asleep on Sparda’s lap. Dante would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat. Nero just looked so soft laying there in Sparda’s lap. After how rowdy and hostile he was to Dante just moments earlier, Dante couldn’t help but stare in awe at how much the kid let his guard down.

This day really wasn’t being fair to Dante.

Setting down the pizzas on a nearby table, Dante made his way back to the couch. Dante gestured at Nero before speaking quietly, “I’ll put him to bed, grab some pizza while you wait. We need to talk.”

Sparda nodded in agreement and gently placed the sleeping boy in Dante’s arms. Once Dante was sure he wasn’t going to drop the kid, he carried Nero upstairs to an empty room that Lady uses every once and a while when she stayed over from a long job (so the room was clean).

After setting Nero down and tucking him in, Dante found himself just staring at the part devil before him. From the sounds of it, Nero never knew his parents and only met Sparda recently. Chances were Vergil probably died in Hell since Dante hadn’t heard or seen of him since. It sucked that the kid might never meet his dad, but at least he had Dante and Sparda. And Dante would be dammed if he let the kid go through life alone like he did. 

Even if Sparda disappeared on him, Dante wouldn’t.

And with that promise he made to himself, Dante exited the room, closing the door silently before making him way back to Sparda. 

And when Dante finally made it to Sparda, he was immensely disappointed. His dad only ate one! He ate a single slice of pizza. Dante had never been so offended in his life. Even Lady ended up eating a whole pizza on her own! (he was almost afraid of how little pizza Nero would eat now). If Dante wasn’t still wary of his dad, he would be shoving pieces of pizza down Sparda’s mouth.

But he did have questions he needed to ask.

“Nero mentioned a bit of it, but what happened?”

Sparda stayed silent for a while, gathering his thoughts before he spoke. He told Dante about the Hell gates in Fortuna, and how he had left Redgrave in hopes of destroying the gates. Unfortunately, not all went as planned and a group of members from the Order had managed to seal him away for what he now realized to be nearly twenty years. Nero’s blood managed to break the seal on him and after a short incident with the Order, they retrieved Yamato and made their way to Redgrave where they rebuilt the house and lived for about two weeks.

Yamato?

It was only then that Dante recalled Nero’s first words to him: ' _Stop bullying Sparda you jerk! Yamato said you could help, not bully gramps!_ '

She wasn’t with Vergil? Yamato wouldn’t willing leave Vergil, and he doubts Vergil would let a cult take his sword from him. Did that mean his brother was really dead? Dante didn’t want to believe it, but it’s the only reasonable explanation for why the two were separated. Dante had to remind himself to talk to the kid and ask if he could compare notes with Yamato.

When Dante asked Sparda if he knew where Vergil was, his dad frowned and shook his head, mentioning Temen-Ni-Gru and how locals spoke of a man in red leaving the risen tower.

Well shit.

Dante did his best to explain the events of Temen-Ni-Gru while skipping over his encounters with Vergil. When he got to the part where Vergil fell down to hell, Dante found himself hesitating. It doesn’t seem as if Sparda knew Vergil was in hell. And while he knew Dante was alive, he only recently discovered what happened to his wife.

Should Dante really be telling him about Vergil?

Screw it. If his dad doesn’t know, Dante’s gonna keep it that way. Saying it out loud makes it more real, and Dante himself still hasn’t gotten over Vergil’s decent. Instead of saying Vergil fell into hell, Dante just told his dad that Verge went off and disappeared.

Sparda got up shortly after. “Perhaps it is best to turn in for the night.” Dante sighed before nodding and stood up, leading Sparda to the bedrooms. 

“Might I ask where Nero is resting.”

“The room all the way at the end of the hall. To your right.”

“Thank you.” Before slipping into Nero’s room, Sparda turned back to Dante. Regret filled his voice as a look of genuine guilt filled his face, “I do apologize for not being there for you. Vergil and Eva as well. I know I have not right to ask this, but please, if for whatever reason I cannot be there for Nero, all I ask is that you protect him.”

Dante waved his hand, almost as if dismissing Sparda’s plea. “Way ahead of you old man.” Dante only just found out he has a family again, and there was no way in hell he was going to lose it. Not if he could do anything about it.

* * *

By the time morning arrived, Dante woke up feeling empty. 

He really thought he was past the phase of dreaming he found his family. Like c’mon. His dad! Alive? With his brother’s kid of all people? Really? How the hell did his brain come up with this stuff? He seriously needed to know so he could shut it up.

After a quick shower, Dante made his way downstairs only to freeze at the view before him.

Nero was rummaging through his fridge, muttering about how there was no food (which personally offended Dante. Pizza was perfectly acceptable food, if not downright a masterpiece). Sparda sat on near his table, flipping through a newspaper? (Where’d his dad find a newspaper?). Looking at the domestic view before him, only one thought popped into Dante’s head.

It wasn’t a dream.

For the first time since his mom died, a warm fuzzy feeling filled Dante’s chest (though Dante would deny it till his dying breath). His family really was right in front of him. All they were missing was Verge. And seeing as how he thought his dad was dead, who knows, maybe his mom would come back from the dead too.

Dante found himself snickering at the thought. If only.

Almost as if sensing Dante there, Sparda looked up from his paper and gave him a warm smile. “Ah, there you are Dante.” His dad set the paper down on the table and made his way to the front door of the building.

Nero quickly focused his attention on Dante and then Sparda, who appeared ready to leave.

“Nero, I will be leaving you here with Dante until I am able to return. There are a few old friends of mine whom I wish to speak with. They may be able to shed some light on your father’s situation.”

Nero gazed up at Sparda with wide eyes, a pout making itself known on his face.

“I don’t need a babysitter! I’m not a little kid.”

Sparda warmly chuckled at the younger part devil’s protest, “I am well aware little one. However, while I trust you to take care of yourself, I’m afraid Dante is the one in need of a sitter—as you put it.”

He winked at Nero’s smug grin (brat). “Perhaps you can help him make his shop more presentable?”

Dante sent a playful glare at Nero when the youngest of the three stuck his tongue out at Dante, before turning his attention back to Sparda. He materialized Force Edge and handed his dad’s sword back to its original owner. “I doubt you have any weapons on you, and the kid doesn’t need you kicking the bucket just yet.”

Sparda shared a smile filled with relief. He quickly looked towards Nero and saw him preoccupied with the fridge on his hunt for edible food that didn’t come in the form of pizza. The smile dropped from Sparda’s face as he spoke in a more somber tone, “Dante you must be careful. I am afraid Mundus knows of my return.”

Dante’s brows furrowed in confusion, “how would—”

“On our trip to Redgrave, we encountered Griffon. I managed to fight him off, but I can only assume he reported back to Mundus.”

Well that’s just great. Dante shook his head in disbelief before offering a smug grin, “just another one of your messes I have to clean up.” Dante met his father’s eyes before growing more serious. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the kid.”

Sparda gave a firm nod before thanking him and leaving the building.

Now then. He had a kid to look after, and he should probably get some pizza in him before Lady shows up and eats it all. But before that—

“Why did you lie to Sparda about my dad?”

Dante’s eyes widened at Nero’s sudden question. Dante had never felt as unprepared or unsettled in his life. How the hell did the kid know?

“I—uh—snuck out of bed and overheard your conversation. You lied to him.” The kid gripped his glowing blue arm (how the hell did Dante miss that?) and looked back up at Dante. “Yamato told me, my dad’s in hell. Why didn’t you tell Sparda?”

At Nero’s question, Dante couldn’t help but feel so unbearably tired. Looks like the kid knew. Not even a day into being an uncle and he’s already failing at keep the horrors and cruelty of the world from his nephew.

“Probably the same reason you haven’t kid.”

Nero looked down onto the floor, clutching his right arm closer to his chest. Okay, the room was getting too depressing for Dante to handle. he couldn’t stand to look at Nero like this; poor kid looked like a kicked puppy. There had to be something Dante could do to cheer him up, but what?

Getting up and forcing as much cheer as he could into his voice, Dante asked, “Hey kid, wanna check out my Devil Arms?” 

That seemed to be the right thing to do because Nero immediately launched himself off his seat and shot Dante a million-watt grin. (And there's the unbearable cuteness!). Alright! This had to go towards good uncle points, right?

Dante quickly planned their day out (Planning? Ahead of time? Were these few hours of being an uncle making him responsible?). They’d look at the Devil Arms for a bit, maybe get some groceries (because for some God forsaken reason Nero refused to eat pizza every day). Then get back home before Lady—

Dante didn’t even get a chance to finish his train of thought before his door slammed open revealing a familiar black-haired woman with an even more familiar weapon strapped onto her back.

“What the hell Dante, I called you five times! What were you—”

She trailed off when her duel colored eyes settle on Nero.

Dante barely dodged the bullet aimed for his head when Lady yelled, “Dante, WHAT THE HELL?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who commented and Kudos this fic! ≧ω≦
> 
> It really means a lot to me seeing all the love and support this series has gotten and it makes my day reading moments you've enjoyed (or moved you to tears XD)!


	7. Friends, New and Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharing what they knew was the first step for the Spardas. Now Dante must take care of Nero while Sparda tracks down old allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another late chapter >.<
> 
> I've been spending time wrapping up my course and hanging out with my cousins. So enjoy this (kinda) longer than usual update as an apology!

“Hey Lady, you mind—kid if you're gonna just sit there at least—LADY NOT THE POOL TABLE!”

Nero watched the crazy gun Lady try to shoot Dante as he ran around the lower floor of his shop. Sipping the glass of water he poured himself before the woman crashed through Dante’s door, Nero didn’t bother fighting the grin that made its way onto his face. Nero had only known Dante for a few hours, but he could tell his uncle deserved whatever this Lady was trying to dish out. The only real question Nero had was if her name really was Lady. 

The young part devil watched as Lady used an array of various weapons, apparently not caring for how much she wreaked the place. Dante on the other hand seemed to be trying to preserve what little of the shop he could. This of course included hiding any spare boxes of pizza behind tables and moving a frame on his desk into one of the drawers.

It wasn’t until a good ten minutes after the women began her assault that Nero started to feel bad for Dante. After putting his glass into Dante’s sink, he made his way over the lady and tugged on her leg. Seemingly surprised at Nero’s actions, Lady toned down her assault and looked down at the part-devil before quickly looking away.

“Dammit Dante! I knew you were immature, but a kid? Really? I swear to—”

Nero might enjoy watching people take Dante down a peg, but he was starting to feel bad for his uncle. Tugging on the lady’s leg again, she finally looked down at Nero long enough to stop her rampage on the store. Nero felt his brows furrow as he spoke up, “Dante’s not my dad.”

The lady’s glare softened as she whispered, “you don’t have to defend him, kid.” Nero couldn’t help but sigh. Why did anyone older than him never listen (except for Credo. Whenever Nero thought something was wrong Credo always listened). 

Taking the temporary ceasefire as an opportunity, Dante slipped away from his cover behind his pool table and made his way back to Lady and Nero.

“Nero’s right Lady, I’m not his dad.”

Lady looked between the two of them, pursing her lips together in the process. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Then who’s kid is…” Her eyes snapped open as she glanced at Dante. The realization hit her as she managed to put all the pieces together. “...Vergil?”

Dante sent her his infamous grin, “Ding, Ding, Ding!”

“Someone _willingly_ slept with Vergil?”

Dante chocked on his spit and Nero looked between the two adults. Sleeping with his dad? Why wouldn’t someone want to sleep with him? Did he snore? Or maybe he took the whole bed? Kyrie’s told Nero that he ends up cuddling whoever sleeps next to him, maybe his father has the same problem. But Nero didn’t understand why his dad sleeping with someone shocked her, or why it was relevant enough for her to bring up.

Dante was struggling to hold back his laughter as he tried to get out a sentence, “dammit Lady. I can’t—” Dante wheezed. “Vergil hooking up with—” Dante bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Here I thought he spawned outta Vergil!”

Lady, while having no audible reaction, wore a very complacent smirk on her face. Nero didn’t get what was so funny. And honestly? He didn’t think he wanted to know either.

Shortly after Dante calmed down, the half-devil seemed to realize that introductions were in order and manage to bring the two people out of the dark. He explained where Nero came from and how he arrived at Dante’s shop, Sparda in tow. Then he explained how he and first met. After finding out that Lady shot Dante in the head, he immediately asked Lady to show him the gun she used.

Lady, happy to have another person willing to torment Dante, was more than willing to bring out said gun. Nero ogled at the weapon as Dante sulked in a corner of his shop. Lady laughed at his (admittedly) pathetic display, muttering something along the lines of how a devil as powerful as Dante could get bullied by his nine-year-old nephew. Dante’s only response was that he knew the two of them would team up against him.

Looking at Lady’s gun, Nero suddenly remembers his dream to build his ideal gun. He was quick to explain the double-barrel system, shooting two bullets at once. He still didn’t know much about how to design it, or what type of gun he’d use, but he definitely wants it to be a double-barrel so he could shoot two bullets at once. Lady was more than eager to encourage his vision, going as far as asking what he’d name the weapon and promising to help him build it. 

Nero ended up blushing an adorable red as he mumbled out Blue Rose and thanked her. 

Dante laughed.

Lady punched him in the gut.

Now Nero was laughing as Dante regrated even letting Lady into his shop (even though she busted in without any warning in advance).

Once the initial excitement of meeting Dante’s nephew was over, Lady was quick to turn to Dante, handing him a small file she had been working on for the past few weeks. As soon as the word Fortuna slipped through her lips, Nero immediately focused on the conversation.

Apparently, there have been reports of Fortuna producing artificial demons, and Lady’s been hired to take down the operation. This was the job she called him ahead of time for. Knowing she couldn’t take on a whole island of demons she came to Dante and was willing to split the money 80/20, but seeing as he now had a kid to look after she was willing to bump it up to 70/30.

While Dante would normally accept the job on the spot, he had to look after Nero. From what Sparda told him about Nero and The Order… Dante wasn’t so sure the kid should be taken back to Fortune just yet. After all, the kid nearly died there last time. If he showed up again, who’s to say The Order wouldn’t steal Nero from right under his nose? 

Almost as if understanding Dante’s warring thoughts, Nero kicked Dante in the shin. Even though it didn’t hurt, Dante did let out a small yelp and rubbed his shin. Nero looked up at Dante, determination evident in his ice-blue eyes.

“I want to see Credo and Kyrie. I never got to say goodbye. Besides, gramps taught me how to use my cool devil arm. Plus, I have Yamato!”

His arm glowed a soft blue in response, forcing a chuckle from Dante. Yeah, he knew how protective Yamato got over her partner. “Kid you’re gonna have to come up with a better name than Devil Arm.” Feigning a thinking action by looking up and resting his fingers on his chin, Dante assertively dubbed Nero’s demonic arm as a “Devil Breaker’. Seeing as no one present had a better idea, Nero accepted the name.

With that settled, Dante summoned Rebellion from ether space and strapped it onto his back. Lady just got off the phone from with the ferry service they’d use to get to Fortuna and slung her Kalina Ann over her shoulder. Nero summoned Yamato into his hand before absorbing it back into his Devil Bringer. 

And so, the two hunters and Nero made their way to the docks.

* * *

While Sparda had told Nero and Dante that he would be searching for old friends of his, he quite frankly had no idea how to find them. After all, it had been roughly twenty years since he had last seen them, and rumors of his death had likely spread to Hell.

Though if all else failed, he could try summoning some of his apprentices. Though now that Sparda had time to ponder over it, he decided to summon his acquaintances was perhaps a better idea than aimlessly searching the world for them. That way, even if they were in Hell Sparda would be able to contact them.

Returning to his house in Redgrave, Sparda quickly made his way inside and into the library he had been working on in the basement of the home. To Sparda’s displeasure, not everything for the attack on the house ages ago was salvageable. Thankfully though, there was a vault full of advanced spellcraft that Eva had protected with various runes that survived the attack.

Even after her death, she continues to guide him. Whatever would he have done without her?

Opening the vault was a simple enough task (the combination being Dante and Vergil’s birthday), and finding the right book wasn’t awfully difficult either (Eva left detailed ‘post-it-notes’ on the cover of every book detailing the contents of each tome). Finally finding a tome explaining how to summon demons, Sparda quickly flipped through its numerous pages, skimming through its contents before finding what he needed.

He needed to make runes (using blood, some form of demonic essence, and a Qliphoth root) while performing an incantation. Nothing too taxing or difficult. The blood, thankfully, did not have to be human, he could just use his own; that should also handle the demonic essence. The Qliphoth root will be slightly harder to obtain considering its origin in the underworld. 

But once again Eva’s handy notes came in handy. Scanning her alchemy notes, Sparda came across a means of creating a substitute for the Qliphoth root using various herbs and a bit of his own blood. He already had most of the needed herbs in his Ether Space from his alchemy days with Eva and found the rest of them in a nearby forest.

Figuring that it would not be wise to summon demons anywhere near the house he and Nero built together, Sparda decided to perform the summoning ritual within the forest. Drawing the runes with his blood, Sparda crushed the necessary herbs and sprinkled them in the center of the runes. After muttering the incantation, Sparda waited.

Although not instant, the runes quickly glowed an ominous black. Once the light died down, Sparda was relieved to see a familiar black-haired devil standing before him. The corners of Sparda’s lips twitched upwards as he fought back the growing smile.

“Modeus.”

“Lord… Sparda?” Modeus’ brows scrunched in confusion as he gazed at the devil before him. 

Sparda offered a large yet warm smile and nodded in response. The black-haired devil’s eyes widened as he dropped down onto one knee, never once breaking eye contact with Sparda. 

“I always believed you were alive!” Sparda chuckled and gestured for Modeus to stand back up, the former happily obliging. Sparda had forgotten just how pure-hearted (despite being a devil) and eager Modeus was. It most likely would have given him whiplash had he not gotten to know the spitfire that was Nero. 

“I am relieved that you seem healthy as well. Though if I may ask, where is your brother?” When Sparda instigated the ritual he had hoped to summon both Modeus as well as Baul, however, only Modeus answered his call.

Said devil looked down as his voice carried a note of guilt, “It’s been quite some time since you left Baul and I to look over humanity in your steed. Baul and I have had some… disagreements over the years.”

Modeus paused trying to collect and formulate his thoughts as Sparda frowned. Baul had always been very protective of Modeus. What could have happened between the two to cause such a rift between the brothers? These thoughts confused Sparda and he voiced as much.

Modeus shook his head before finally settling upon his answer. “Baul had waited for your return to Hell, dueling with you became his reason for living.” Wrinkling his nose, the devil continued, “It disgusted me. There was no logic to it, it consumed him until it robbed him of his reason to live. I’ve long but abandoned my sword for that very reason. Baul disagreed with my actions. He returned to Hell while I stayed here in the human realm.”

Sparda’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to process the story, of sorts, his former apprentice told him. The last time he had seen Modeus and Baul, the twins were inseparable (eerily similar to his own sons). But to find out after all this time, even the two of them drifted apart in such a way was unthinkable (had this happened to his own sons?). 

Resting his hand on the other devil’s shoulder, Sparda spoke, in what he hoped to be a thoughtful tone, “Once my return reaches Baul’s ears he will no doubt seek me out. We will have the duel he wishes, and perhaps at this point, it will be easier to rebuild your relationship. I am afraid I am going through a similar issue. It is for that very reason that I summoned you and your brother.”

Golden eyes continued to stare at Sparda, confusion evident within their depths. Sparda was quick to explain his imprisonment via seal, and his meeting of Nero. He glossed over his visit to Redgrave before finally elaborating on his encounter with Dante. Sparda ended off with his search for his elder son.

Modeus, reading between the lines and understanding what Sparda was implying asked, “Your elder son? Are you not aware of his fate?”

Sparda’s heart sunk upon hearing Modeus’ questions. The elder devil had already faced too many encounters with deaths of those closest to him (Eva’s grave, Nero’s body slowly bleeding out). Was that Vergil’s fate as well? Was his eldest son truly dead? Had that been why Dante avoided speaking of his twin? Why Yamato was no longer with the part devil he entrusted her with?

Sparda couldn’t bear to look at his former apprentice as he struggled to implore the fate of his son from the devil before him. “Vergil… Is he…”

The black-haired devil shook his head, immediately filling Sparda with a bit of relief. If Vergil hadn’t been slain, then the only logical explanation was he remained missing. That meant Sparda just had to keep looking. It wasn’t much, but it was a far better alternative than remaining unsure if his son was alive. And with Modeus with him Sparda was sure—

“Last I heard, Vergil was trapped in the underworld. I tried searching for him, but I wasn’t able to track down any signs of him.” Sparda’s heart stopped as his breath was stuck in his throat. His muscles tensed as his nerves flooded his body.

What?

Vergil… In Hell?

Hell, with Mundu—

NO.

Despite his growing fears and troubling thoughts, Sparda forced his body to relax. Worrying about “what-if’s” will not do him any good. This happened before when he had discovered Eva’s passing. He broke down and it took all Nero had to help him regain his senses. 

It would be best not to jump to conclusions. After all, it would only distract him from focusing on what he needed to do now. First and foremost, he needs to find a Hell Gate, perhaps the one he left on Fortuna while escaping with Nero would do? Then he needed to inform Dante of this development.

It would appear, that after many centuries, Sparda would be returning to Hell.

* * *

“Hey kid?”

“Yeah?”

“How about calling me uncle instead of old man once in a while?”

“But you’re an old man that doesn’t act like an uncle.”

Lady threw her head back in laughter as Dante sulked on the edge of his seat in the boat back to Capulet City’s port.

The mission in Fortuna had been a simple one. Lady recently got hired to disrupt The Order’s demonic creation labs and decided to bring Dante along with her so she could wrap it up quickly. Nero, already knowing where the labs were (thanks to Yamato who remembered the location where she and Nero first met) led them to there.

With Lady’s wide array of heavy arsenal and Dante’s flashy style of combat, the labs were destroyed in a swift and decisive matter, leaving no paper trail of demonic research behind. But their destruction did cause them to have to fight several demons and members of The Order, including their leader, Sanctus. 

Sanctus tried to have Nero captured to power what he dubbed the ‘Prototype Savior’. Of course Nero wasn’t having any of it and used his Devil Bringer and Yamato to keep any Order soldiers from getting anywhere near him, providing a distraction that allowed Dante to get close enough to finish Sanctus off.

Overall, the mission was easy, they were gonna get lots of money from it, and Nero got to spend some time with his friends Kyrie and Credo. When Credo first saw Dante, he had begun to lecture the half-devil on the responsibilities of being a parent and that he had no right to abandon his son.

Lady, barely holding back her amusement, quickly explained the situation to Credo who (was still wary of Dante) stood down. Kyrie on the other hand was delighted that Nero had found a member of his family and was relieved to know he was safe after he suddenly disappeared a few weeks ago (Nero sheepishly apologized). After a quick supper and promising to stay in touch, the members of Devil May Cry hopped onto the nearest ferry back to Capulet City.

By the time they reach the port, the sun was already beginning to set, leaving the two devil hunters and child to head their separate ways. Lady, before leaving, promised to drop in more often to check up on Nero (though if you asked Dante it was more likely so the two of them could scheme more ways of making his life miserable). Nero, eager to see his ‘aunt’ Lady again happily agreed (Lady would never admit the pride she felt upon gaining that title). 

Once Dante and Nero arrived back in the demon hunter shop, they immediately collapsed on the closest couch; Nero laying down on top of Dante’s larger body. Dante closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep while Nero struggled to make himself comfortable against Dante’s chest. The younger part devil, once finally content on his position, spoke softly to his uncle.

“Dante, what kind of guy was my dad?”

Dante cracked open his eyes as he gazed up at his ceiling. Ice blue eyes glazed over as memories of his twin brother played over and over in his mind. A sad smile formed on his face as he tried his best to explain his brother to his nephew.

“He was obsessed with power and definitely had a superiority complex.”

_‘Foolishness, Dante, foolishness. Might controls everything, and without strength, you cannot protect anything. Let alone yourself.’_

“Unbelievably stubborn, with one hell of an ego.”

_’I’m staying, this place was our father’s home.’ Yamato slicing his hand as he watched his brother fall into the pits of Hell, unable to stop him._

“But at the end of the day…”

_’Remember what we used to say?’_

“He was family.”

_’JACKPOT!’_

While Dante’s answer didn’t tell him much of anything, there was one thing Nero was able to take away from his response. His uncle really did care about his dad. They may not have gotten along, may have fought a lot, and went their separate ways, but at the end of the day, they were still brothers. No matter what they said to others, they would always hold the other in a special spot in their hearts (as cheesy as it sounded to him).

“You—uh, you miss him. Don’t you.”

An almost solemn look settled on Dante’s face as he locked onto Nero’s eyes. His voice cracked as he uttered out, “Every damn day.”

The two laid down in silence, contemplating their memories of, or lack thereof, Vergil. It was when Dante didn’t elaborate that an idea struck Nero. Sending a silent apology to Yamato for breaking their promise, Nero began to tell Dante about all the thing’s Yamato had seen Vergil do on their travels together. (Yamato, although offended that Nero broke their sacred rule of sharing Vergil’s more… embarrassing memories, let Nero do as he please).

Nero got off on Dante’s chest and stood on the floor beside the couch. He told Dante about Vergil’s first experience with eyeliner. After seeing its effects on others, Vergil wanted to see if it would replicate that effect on himself. So he headed to a nearby cosmetics store and bought some eyeliner. After various failed attempts, he summoned Yamato and used her edge to trace the edges of his eye. While he was pleased with the results, the eyeliner stained his trusted blade. He swore to never use such a fowl product again.

A snort escaped Dante’s lips. Nero took that as an incentive to continue his stories.

Slowly but surely Nero began to explain many of Vergil’s funnier misadventures. One of which included a run-in with a cosplayer of his favorite childhood show (read: anime) while he was out on a run to the store to purchase a pack of cup noodles. Another story had Nero telling his uncle about the one and only time Vergil took off his coat. He tried to cover a kitten from the rain, only for the feline to steal his jacket, run it through some mud and rip one of his selves up. Vergil swore never to take his coat off or trust a cat again.

It was shortly after finishing his fifth tale, that Yamato materialized herself in order to defend her former master’s honor. By that point, Dante already wrapped his arms around him as he rolled around in laughter. Nero promised the katana that the rest of Vergil’s secrets were safe from his uncle and absorbed her back into his Devil Bringer.

Hearing some of Vergil’s more human moments before their confrontation in Temen-Ni-Gru brighten Dante’s mood enough for him to share some of his own tales of his brother when they were children. Sure enough, after Dante’s various stories of his childhood with Vergil, Nero felt his eyelids dropping as he stifled a yawn.

A soft smile graced Dante’s lips as he carried a tired Nero upstairs to his room. Tucking the kid into bed, Dante turned to head towards his own, only to be stopped by Nero’s voice, sheepishly calling out to him, “Thanks for the stories… Uncle Dante.”

Dante’s heart squeezed in his chest as he struggled to get words out of his throat, “yeah, you too kid. Night Nero.”

“G’night Dante.”

* * *

“Master Mundus!”

Griffon flew into the chapel where Mundus had been sealed mere centuries ago. Already there was the demoness in Sparda’s wife’s image, Trish, and Mundus’s most powerful general Nelo Angelo

Folding his wings and bowing down in front of the throne, waiting patiently for his master to acknowledge his presence. Mundus had sent his loyal servant out to investigate rumors of Sparda’s return to the human realm. After surveilling the _traitor’s_ old home for the past two decades, Griffon was shocked and perplexed by the devil’s return.

That, and the child Sparda was carrying on his back.

“Speak Griffon.”

“The rumors were true Master.” Griffon claimed. “Sparda has returned, and with him was a nestling, whether it’s another one of his spawn’s or his sons remains unknown.” 

Dark cackling filled the demon’s ears as he was overwhelmed by the presence of his master. Griffon could almost feel tendrils of darkness caressing his wings, threatening to, at any moment, crush them in their grasp. A trio of red eyes pierced through Griffon as he struggled to swallow the lump building in his throat.

“Then it is time.” Mundus glanced once at the blonde demoness. “Trish you know what you must.” 

“All will be towards your will Master Mundus.” Trish bowed briefly towards Mundus, before exiting the chapel. Griffon and Nelo Angelo began to follow her out, but Nelo was stopped by his master. Having been called to stay back, Nelo bent his knee, eyes locked on his master’s form.

“Nelo there is one task I need you to complete before you are to confront Dante and Sparda. Bring me the nestling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparda's whole segment with Modeus just didn't want to be written, and even when it did it came out really awkward... But I knew I had to get this chapter out so we can move on with the story. Otherwise, I would be stuck re-writing the same scene over and over again.  
> (Shout out to RimaRaveen for guessing Modeus's appearance XD)
> 
> Hopefully, Mundus & co's appearance/ Nero & Lady teaming up to harass Dante helped make the chapter more bearable loll


	8. Mallet Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mundus makes his move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are probably gonna start getting slower (I'm thinking a week and a half per chapter) since school starts in like a week for me and I need to start reviewing all my calc/physics notes (=_=) and I struggle at writing fighting scenes so it'll take some time before I'm happy with how certain scenes play out 
> 
> But don't worry! This fic will be finished! The last few chapters have all been planned out and now I just gotta write them ^^

When Dante woke up the next morning, he couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. The clock on his bedside read 8:43. Maybe that’s why he was feeling out of the loop. It was way too early for him to be up. Sighing, Dante got out of bed, and after a quick shower, he went to go check up on Nero.

The kid was still sound asleep when Dante stepped into his room. His breathing was slightly elevated, and his brows were furrowed as Nero tossed and turned in his bed. Looks like Dante wasn’t the only one feeling restless. Resting his hand on Nero’s shoulder, Dante tried to shake the kid awake. Whatever he was dreaming about could not have been pleasant.

That seemed to do the trick. Nero sprung up from his bed causing his head to collied right into Dante’s. The two part devils winced in pain as they rubbed their heads. After the pain quickly subsided, blue eyes glared at Dante, resulting in him stepping backwards with his arms raised in mock surrender.

“You mind telling me what that was about?”

Nero tore his gaze from Dante, his eyes settling on his Devil Bringer as he mumbled out, “What was what about?”

Dante resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he mustered his inner Vergil and gave Nero the best stern look he could. Nero, knowing there was no avoiding the matter with Dante, looked up and met the older half-devil’s eyes.

“A bunch of stupid dreams I guess.” Dante raised his eyebrow curiously in response. Moving towards the edge of Nero’s bed, Dante sat down as Nero sat up and pulled his knees into his chest. “Sanctus killed Credo… Some weird Hobo stole my Devil Bringer… Gramps wasn’t even…” Nero trailed off unable to continue.

Well shit.

If there was one thing Dante would admit to sucking at, it was comforting others. Dante regretted asking, but now he had to try and cheer the kid up somehow. Shuffling over to get closer, Dante pulled Nero into his arms and hugged his nephew.

Nero curled up in his chest and it broke Dante’s heart. Dante was so used to seeing Nero being so full of fire, teaming up with Lady to harass him or defending Sparda from his merciless interrogation. Seeing him this small… this vulnerable… it was off-putting.

They all lost important people in their lives, but Dante would be dammed if Nero had to lose anyone else. The elder half-devil already knew there was no saving him from the pit he’s in (it was too late for him; he is already too broken), but Nero… He still had a chance. He still had a chance to live a normal life.

With that in mind, Dante spoke softer than he ever had in his life, “None of that’s gonna happen Nero. Trust me. We already took care of Sanctus, and you don’t have to worry about hobos! Even hobos have enough integrity to stay away from this place!”

The jab at his shop was worth it as a quiet laugh spilled from Nero. The younger part-devil squeezed Dante with a short hug before meekly thanking his uncle, “Thanks, Dante. I don’t think I say that enough.” 

Dante chocked up at the kid’s confession. This kid really will the death of him. “I got it, kid.”

A warm chuckled caused the two part-devils to stare at Nero’s doorway like deer caught in headlights. Sparda and a black-haired devil standing beside him had amused expressions on their faces as they watched Nero and Dante scramble to untangle themselves from the other.

“Oh please, pay us no heed,” Sparda teased his son and grandson, “I jest. I am simply relieved that you two were able to get along so well.”

Nero, in response, complained of Dante’s terrible eating habits, his dirty house, his obnoxious fighting style, while Dante just gave his a sly smirk replying with a, “Oh really, then what was it you were saying a few minutes ago?” Poorly mimicking Nero’s voice, Dante continued, “ _Dante help me! I can’t sleep! I’m so sad!_ ”

Nero blushed profusely at his uncle’s imitation of him and was quick to deny his claims. Sparda let out a hearty laugh; at least the other demon had the nerve to hide his growing grin behind his hand. Nero, not being able to take any more of this embarrassment, changed the topic from himself to breakfast. With that, the other devils agreed to ‘forget’ about their previous conversation and followed the youngest part devil to the kitchen.

Filling a recently cleaned bowl with milk, Nero grabbed a box of cereal and made his way to the couch. Flopping onto the seat he turned on the tv and began to eat his breakfast. Sparda asked to try some to which Nero happily obliged (however when Dante asked, he was promptly ignored).

It was then that Dante realized he still didn’t know the black-haired devil that arrived with his old man. As Dante grilled Sparda for information, Nero turned down the volume of the tv, obviously curious as to the demon’s identity.

Sparda introduced the demon as Modeus and spoke fondly of him and his brother Baul. He mentioned having trained them prior to his rebellion and having them protect the human realm in his stead should anything happen to him or his boys. Dante immediately saw a problem with that statement.

“Then where the hell were you when Mundus killed my mom?”

Modeus did not turn away from Dante’s harsh gaze as he explained, “at the time I was struggling to find my brother. We had a disagreement of sorts and he traveled back to Hell.”

Dante closed his mouth before he could say anything else. Modeus’s words struck to close to home with what happened between him and Vergil. Looks like he and Modeus were on the same boat. Despite everything their brothers had done to them, they still want to look for them and be a family again.

The two continued talking about their brothers and what a pain they could be towards them. Sparda chipped in every now and then with stories about a younger Dante and Vergil, along with freshly minted Modeus and Baul; Nero eagerly soaking up any information about his family. 

Despite the pleasant conversation between his son and apprentice, Sparda felt the need to bring the new information he learned to light. Forcing Nero and Dante to sit down in front of him, Sparda told them what he learned of Vergil’s fate. Both Nero and Dante avoided his eyes during the whole explanation letting Sparda know that they already knew. They knew and they kept that information from him.

Dante, after a bit of hesitation, told Sparda of how his and Vergil’s confrontation on the peak of Temen-Ni-Gru actually ended. Dante tried to save him, and Vergil—being the stubborn bastard he was—refused, causing him to fall into Hell. Sparda was horrified at his eldest son’s reasoning and promised to give a stern lecture about responsibilities regarding power.

It was shortly after that Nero suggested going to Hell to look for Vergil and Modeus’s brother. Dante and Sparda shared a knowing look before Dante shot down his idea. If anyone should go to Hell it should be him and his dad. Nero was still too young and didn’t even have a Devil Trigger yet. There was no guarantee that he’d survive.

Nero’s protests were cut short the moment his Devil Bringer glowed blue. It was at that very moment all the devils in the shop stopped talking and froze. Each devil, minus the new addition, knew the implications of the glowing arm. There was an unknown demon nearby. 

Before any of the occupants of Devil May Cry could do or say anything, a blonde demon crashed through Dante’s front door on a motorcycle. Dante was quick to mask his surprise and gave her his best carefree smirk, “Sorry babe, but we’re closed.” He gestured at himself and Sparda before continuing, “Family emergency.”

While the demon got off her motorcycle and surveyed the room around her, Dante was quick to grab his nephew’s human arm and hid Nero behind him. Nero’s grip on Dante’s arm was tight as the kid tried his best not to let any of his fear or apprehension show on his face. 

It would appear that Dante was a tad too late and the demon had already seen, or at the very least known about the kid if her next words were any indication.

“So, the rumors were true.”

Surprisingly enough, it was Modeus who spoke up in response, “Of which rumors do you speak of?”

The demon gave the black-haired demons a quick look over before answering his question, “Sparda’s glorious return, as well as the young nestling who carries his blood.”

Now that was bad news if Dante ever heard it. If this demon knew about Sparda AND Nero, she knew too much. Dante spread out his arms showcasing the Legendary Dark Knight and his grandson in mock praise. “Well, congratulations babe. Mind telling us what you want?”

“I’m not your enemy. My name is Trish. I came here to seek your help… to put an end to the Underworld.”

“Now why would you want to go off and do something like that?”

Trish held his gaze and took off her shades, causing all the everyone in the room to freeze in shock. All occupants containing Sparda’s blood immediately recognized the face of the demon. For Sparda, it was the woman he fell in love with and promised his life to. For Dante, it was the mother who loved and protected him at the cost of her own life. For Nero, it was a woman he had only heard stories of and always wanted to meet. 

The silence stretched painfully amongst the two parties in the building. Neither side doing more than staring at the other. It was then that Nero knew he had to do something to break the silence. Stepping away from Dante’s back, he weakly called out to his grandmother’s doppelganger, “Grandma?”

“I’m not your grandmother kid.”

“Yet you’re wearing her face.” Sparda practically hissed not even hiding his threat as he summoned swords to circle around Trish, “You have ten seconds to explain who you are.” 

Trish explained that years ago Eva saved her life. She regretted that she wasn’t there to save Eva during the attack in Redgrave, so she instead took on her appearance to honor her memory. Upon hearing Trish’s explanation, Sparda dismissed his swords but still seemed on guard against Trish; Dante kept the same level of suspicion on his face.

Taking the lowered level of hostility as a cue, Trish continued to explain her request. Mundus was apparently resurrecting on Mallet Island and Trish came to the Legendary Devil Hunter Dante to assist her in ending the threat once and for all. However, after learning of Sparda’s resurgence, she knew she had to implore the Legendary Dark Knight to help her.

Dante and Sparda were both still skeptical towards the blonde demon but weren’t able to find any reasons for her to lie. Perhaps Trish was like Sparda? A demon who grew a sense of self and found themselves disgusted by Mundus’s actions. Both father and son were lost in their thoughts as they debated whether or not to follow Trish to Mallet Island.

Oddly enough, it was Nero who gave them the push they needed. “Yamato says Mundus knows what happened to da—Vergil.”

Well, now he had to go. 

If there was even the slightest clue about Vergil’s whereabouts, Dante had to go. Even if it meant beating the answers out of the Prince of Darkness himself. Sparda must have agreed because not even a moment later he was asking Trish for more details.

Looks like they were going after all. 

But there was no way they were bringing Nero with them; that much Dante knew for certain.

Ice blue eyes locked onto golden as Modeus seemed to understand what Dante was trying to ask him. He gave a slight nod in agreement and Nero looked between the two of them in confusion. Before Nero could clarify, Sparda walked back towards the group.

“Guess what kid? Looks like you and Modeus get a vacation while my old man and I go look for your dad.” Nero’s reaction was instant. He immediately protested (No he did not throw a tantrum, he wasn’t a little kid dammit!) against being left alone. Sparda assured him that Modeus will be more than enough protection, but Nero wasn’t having it.

It took a lot of convincing form father and son alike to get the younger-part devil to agree. They promised updates whenever they could (including one when they reached the island and one when, not if, they beat Mundus) and with that, they entrusted the youngest member of their family to Modeus and prepared to leave.

The unsettling feeling Dante felt when he first woke up followed him out of the building.

* * *

“We’ll call you back once we beat Mundus’s ass.”

“Yeah, just…” Nero bit his lip, hesitating slightly before continuing. “Just be careful okay? I don’t want to lose anyone else.” 

Dante, thankfully, caught wind of Nero’s vulnerability, his mind immediately remembering the conversation the two had earlier that morning and bit back a joke at the younger part devil's expense. Instead, a confident laugh was heard on the other end of the receiver as a firm voice assured him, “No one’s losing family anymore.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah kid, I promise.”

With that, the line went dead, and Nero turned his attention back to the black-haired demon who was inspecting the shop’s sad excuse for a kitchen. Nero didn’t know much about him other than the short introduction Sparda gave.

Modeus was apparently a demon Sparda trained before his rebellion, and if anything was to happen to Sparda his apprentice would protect the human world in his stead. Apparently Modeus had a brother too. But no one, including Modeus, knew where he was. It reminded him of his dad.

Maybe once this was all over, all of them could go searching through Hell for Baul and his dad.

Slowly walking towards the living room, Nero flopped onto the couch after turning on the tv. Modeus was quick to join him, sitting a comfortable distance away from the younger part-devil. The noise from the show faded into the background as Nero bombarded Modeus with various questions about him.

Nero was pleased to find out that Modeus seemed like a very complacent demon, who didn’t care for unnecessary destruction. If Nero had to point out something that bothered him though, it had to be how overly formal he was. It had taken A LOT of convincing and assurance from Nero to get the older devil to switching from calling him young master to Nero.

On top of all that, Modeus did seem to know a thing or two about fighting… Maybe Nero could get him to teach him how to use Yamato some time? Who knows how long his grandfather and uncle were going to be away for? It would help pass time and make him stronger. Two birds, one stone.

“Hey, Modeus?”

Said devil turned his gaze from the television screen to ice blue eyes, “what is it, Nero?”

Nero looked down at his hands as he fidgeted with his fingers, “would you mind… teaching me how to—y’know, fight?” A soft smile appeared on Modeus’s face as he gazed down at Nero. 

“It would be my honor.”

With that Modeus and Nero got off the couch and made their way to the back lot of the building. Summoning Yamato from his Devil Bringer, Nero held the sword out in front of him. Modeus looked at the younger part-devil. A contemplating look settled on his face as he took in Nero’s form and stance.

“When fighting with, I believe humans would refer to Yamato as a Katana, it is best to be mindful of your stance. Katanas are quite fragile blades, it’s best used for quick, successive strikes rather than brute force.”

Nero couldn’t stop the frown forming on his face. That sounded like a lot of work. He’d much rather have a sword that he could easily hack and slash through stuff with. And how was he supposed to use his gun if this sword needed both his hands?

Yamato hummed angrily at his thoughts. Nero continuously apologized until she settled down.

Almost as if knowing the interaction between Nero and Yamato, Modeus chuckled knowingly. Nero sheepishly brushed his finger over the bridge of his nose before insisting that Modeus continued. And so, the devil did. 

For the first bit, it was just Modeus informing Nero of the various forms and techniques useable by a katana. He, unfortunately, didn’t know any of Yamato’s unique techniques, it was going to be something Nero had to learn on his own or have Sparda or his father teach him.

Once Nero was sure he got the basics down, he asked Modeus to spar against him. Up until now, Nero’s only had a chance to spar against Credo every, but those spars were few and far between. Nero wanted a chance to put all these moves he’s learned to use, as well as try to use his Devil Bringer in an actual fight.

Modeus agreed and summoned his own sword in response. Nero immediately charged towards him, Yamato pointing downwards as he raised the Devil Arm upwards in an attempt to slash Modeus. Said devil brought his sword down, locking the two Devil Arms in a stalemate.

Nero knew he didn’t have the strength to match a full devil, so he called (a baffled) Yamato back into his Devil Bringer causing Modeus to stumble due to the removal of the force he was pushing against. Now that his opponent lost his balance, Nero summoned his Devil Bringer’s spectral arm and attempted to grab onto Modeus.

Unfortunately, the devil was quick to realize his predicament and dodged Nero’s Devil Bringer at the last second. Modeus beamed at Nero’s tactic, pride evident in his voice as he praised Nero, “Sparda mentioned you were quite resourceful. I would be wise not to underestimate you.”

The two continued to duke it out for the next hour. Nero gaining an upper hand, only for Modeus to catch on and change the pace of the fight, leading to Nero needing to come up with another strategy. Nero’s real breakthrough was when he unknowingly triggered one of Yamato’s unique techniques.

After Modeus successfully moved out of range of Nero’s Devil Bringer, Nero frustratingly slashed his sword in the elder devil’s direction, wishing for the blade to connect. And it did. Or at least it partially did. 

While most of the attack was blocked by Modeus, who instinctively raised his sword, a slight cut was made on his right shoulder as a small pool of blood dripped from the wound. Nero was breathing heavily and felt exhausted after the long drawn out duel, collapsed onto the ground after letting out a victorious holler. 

Gold eyes widen in surprise as Modeus raised his fingers to his wound. _He really should not have underestimated Sparda’s grandson._

“That was so much fun!” Nero practically cried out with excitement. The adrenaline from the fight was still pumping through his veins fueling him with enough energy to beam brightly at Modeus (said devil feared he could not take much more of his Lord’s grandson’s bright nature. It was, as humans called it, “fluff overload.”)

“Before gramps and Uncle Dante get back would you—” Nero was interrupted by his Devil Bringer glowing a bright blue. Nero, still not down from the high of his fight, stared at his arm perplexed. His arm only glowed around demons. Sure, Modeus was a demon, but he was cool. So why was his arm glowing? Why so suddenly now of all times?

Nero received his answer in the most ill-fated way possible.

Before Nero could even blink, standing before him was a demon draped in dark blue armor, his hand wrapped around Nero’s throat. The boy couldn’t do anything as he was lifted into the air. His feet mindlessly kicking in hopes of hurting the demon enough for it to drop him. Nero's hands struggled to find purchase on the demon’s hand, as he tried his best to claw at it.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe as Nero continued his fruitless struggles. The hand tightened ever so slightly against his throat causing Nero to see stars. He was on the verge of passing out until he was suddenly let go.

The young part devil clawed at his throat as he sucked in as much air as he possibly could. Who the hell was this demon? Looking up, Nero saw the familiar back of Modeus. The Dark Knight’s apprentice stood protectively in front of Nero, summoning his sword and standing in a defensive stance, ready to defend Nero till his dying breath.

Neither Nero nor Modeus were in the best shape, both spent after their sparing sensation. It didn’t help that they knew nothing of the demon before them. Things were not looking too good. They needed help. Dante and Sparda were too far away and wouldn’t be able to come back in time. But what about Lady?

If Nero could get to a phone, he might be able to through to Lady!

Nero never got the chance to turn and face the house as he and Modeus were abruptly slammed against the Devil May Cry building. The demons stood before them menacingly, his sword in hand as he slowly approached them. Nero groaned out in pain as he held his head in his hands. 

Knowing this demon was not an opponent to take lightly, Modeus transformed into his demonic form and charged straight at the demon. The two were locked in tight combat, swiftly trading blows with one another. Nero struggled to get up despite the way his head throbbed, and his body protested against his movements. If he could use his Devil Bringer…

Nero never got to finish his thought as a blue sword suddenly pinned his demonic arm against the building. The part-devil screamed out in pain as his knees gave in. Exhaustion was already catching up to Nero as black dots littered his vision. He could already feel his eyes drooping shut. Modeus snapped his head back to look at Nero in concern. He had one job and it was to look after Nero! How could he have failed so spectacularly?

Using the black-haired devil’s distracted glance as an opening, the demon stabbed his sword brutally through Modeus’s body, before swiftly withdrawing. Modeus fell onto his knees and Nero pitifully cried out, “NO! MODEUS!”

Yamato found her way into Nero’s hand as he pushed past the sword pinning him against the building and charged towards the demon who attacked Modeus. The demon tilted his head curiously at Nero before his eyes stopped at the sword in his hands.

The demon froze as his gaze remained locked onto Yamato. Knowing this was his only chance to strike the demon, Nero raised his hand, ready to lower his blade, only for Yamato to vanish from his hand. Nero lost his balance and tumbled onto the ground, weakly looking back at his Devil Bringer.

_| You mustn’t attack him Nero. |_

“Why…” was all Nero could ask as he looked down towards where his sword had once been.

_| That demon is your father. |_

Nero could barely lift his head upwards to gaze at the demon. That last thing Nero managed to say before the darkness overtook him was “My… dad…?”

The Nestling’s head hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

While he definitely had potential, Nelo Angelo couldn’t help but wonder what his master wanted from this watered-down spawn of Sparda. But that wasn’t something he needed to concern himself with. The Devil Arm in the boy’s possession, however, was a different story altogether.

The katana sung out to a part of his soul his master had long but sealed away to make him stronger. But why? Nelo had never seen such a weapon in his life under his Master Mundus. Yet it called out to him. 

Vergil, she sung to Nelo.

Nelo grunted in discomfort as his head ached. Images he had never seen before flashed through his head. A young refined-looking boy held the katana upright as he practiced his forms. A blonde woman, greatly resembling the demoness Trish, giving two ruby amulets to a pair of white-haired twins. An unidentifiable emotion welled in Nelo’s chest as he felt himself falling backward, watching as a man in a red coat desperately reached out towards him.

Shaking his head as if dismissing the images he had just seen, Nelo ignored the pounding in his head. It was pointless pondering over this any longer. This was most likely a scheme by the boy to distract Nelo before reinforcements showed up. 

Picking up the unconscious part devil, Nelo made his way back towards Mallet Island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really happy with how Nero & Modeus & Nelo's chunk of the chapter went! It literally just flowed so well in one sitting LOL! It was the first part of the chapter I actually wrote.
> 
> Also, don't ask me where all this angst came from because I wouldn't be able to tell you...


	9. The Past That Comes to Haunt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sparda and Co. Arrive in Mallet Island at long last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG This is so much later than I planned!!! >.< I'm so sorry, but with school throwing work at me and poor time management skills, I've neglected this fic for too long T^T 
> 
> But hey! Only three chapters after this loll.... >.>

“We’ll call you back once we beat Mundus’s ass.”

“Yeah, just… Just be careful okay? I don’t want to lose anyone else.” 

Dante’s thoughts wandered back to the conversation the two had when he woke Nero from his nightmares. The kid was afraid of losing his family after finally meeting them. And honestly, Dante couldn’t blame him; he’s only had loss in the family department till recently. Instead of teasing Nero, Dante replied in a firm voice, assuring him, “No one’s losing family anymore.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah kid, I promise.”

With that, he hung up and turned his attention back in front of him. Dante and Sparda trail behind the demoness donning Eva’s appearance, close enough to see her, but far enough so they have time to react if she tried anything funny. Sparda brought up his concern over this whole thing being a trap (the island being shady as crap doesn’t help either). Which was fair. But if Mundus was behind all this, they had to do it. If it meant getting revenge for his mother, for Vergil, it was worth the risk.

It was only a short walk from the port to the entrance of what looked like a large, yet abandoned, fortress. It was upon reaching the outer gates of the fortress that Trish suggested splitting up. She called it ‘covering more ground’ Dante called it ‘that’s how people die in horror movies’. But Sparda agreed, and seeing how Dante lost 2-1, it seemed like they’d be splitting up.

For the most part, it wasn’t too bad. 

He got some sick new Devil Arms and fought some pretty cool demons. Fighting and taunting his way through each confrontation helped distract him from his darker thoughts.

There was that giant flaming spider. Man was he fun to rile up! The fight was shorter than Dante would have liked but it was fun enough to poke fun at the demonic spider that the devil hunter clad in red let it slide. 

Then there was Griffon.

Even though it took fighting more Marionettes and fodder level demons, Dante finally got the chance to cut loose with another one of Mundus’s generals. Dante, unfortunately, didn’t have too many aerial attacks, but he made up for it by using his Grenadegun long enough to knock Griffon from the air leaving him vulnerable to a ground attack. But just like Phantom, Griffon fled before Dante could finish him off. Yeah, that was going to get annoying real fast if every time Dante fought a high-level demon they retreat before the fight was finished.

Well. All Dante could do was continue forward until he either met up with his old man again or ran into a powerful demon. Making his way into the nearest room, Dante couldn’t help but notice a (very bizarrely placed) mirror near the entrance of the room. Ignoring it for now he made his way over to the balcony deep into the room.

Sticking his head out of the room, he could see his dad slaying a black panther...? What the hell was a—oh. That made more sense. The panther’s tail suddenly transformed into a scythe as it flipped in the air trying to land a hit in Sparda while minimizing its openings. A good strategy for anyone who wasn’t Sparda or himself. 

The Legendary Dark Knight didn’t even give the panther a chance to land back on the ground as he sent purple summon swords at it, forcing the demon to cease its attack. It was too late at that point as when the demon moved to dodge, Sparda anticipated where it would land and dealt it a finishing blow.

Unfortunately, the demon sent out black tendrils out from its body making it resemble a hedgehog. Sparda dodged, granting the demon enough room to run away. Although Dante wasn’t able to see his dad’s face too well, he could tell Sparda was baffled by the demon’s choice to flee. Before Dante could call out to his dad, Sparda was quick to chase after the demon leaving Dante, once again, alone in the room.

Well, not like there was anything he could do about it now. Seeing as there weren’t any demons in the current room, all that was left was for Dante was to leave and try and navigate his way towards Mundus. However, as soon as Dante made his way towards the doorway, a shiver racked his body as he felt the chilling presence of a familiar Devil Arm.

Yamato?

Yamato’s cries pierced through the silence of the room as Dante turned around to face a demon clad in dark blue armor who was holding Yamato still her scabbard.

What was she doing here? In this demon’s hands? Why wasn’t she with Nero? Dante’s widened as he broke out into cold sweat. Yamato was here. WITHOUT Nero. Dante knows for a fact Yamato rests in Nero’s Devil Breaker. And Dante doubted Nero would just summon her and hand her off to any demon. 

What happened to Nero?

Struggling to push past the ever-growing lump in his throat, Dante forced a smirk onto his face and placed his hands on his hips while shaking his head. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The smirk dropped off his face as Dante sent the armored demon an icy glare, “A demon with something that doesn’t belong to him; go figure.”

Drawing Alastor from behind his back Dante got ready to charge towards the demon, only for it to nod towards the balcony and jumped out. Seeing no other option, Dante began his pursuit after the demon. 

Just who was he? Yamato is very particular of her users. Dante has a feeling the only reason she lets Nero use her was because he was Vergil’s kid. But why was this demon able to wield her?

Dante was ripped from his trail of thought by a sword coming from above him. The demon leaped off the room of the balcony and was coming straight towards him. Dodging at the last second before pulling out Ebony and Ivory, Dante and the demon stood at a standstill; neither willing to move until the other made their move.

“I’m gonna need you to tell me how you got that sword there.”

The demon said nothing as he stared down at Yamato. Sticking his greatsword into the ground and pulling the Devil Arm out of her scabbard, the demon turned his attention back to Dante. 

This demon wanted a fight. 

Fine. 

Dante would give him one he’d never forget.

“Looks like I’ll have to beat some answers out of you first. Fine by me.”

Dante kept his distance from the demon, shooting with Ebony and Ivory, wanting to see how much damage his trusty guns did to him. The demon was able to deflect the bullets with practiced ease as he walked closer and closer towards Dante. The half-devil shuffled backward in response, wanting to keep that distance until he learned more of the demon’s moves.

The demon suddenly warped in front of him, Yamato glowed in a strangely familiar blue light and the demon tried to strike at Dante. Dodging before the blow could connect, Dante taunted, “Fancy parlor trick you got there big guy.” If the comment riled up the demon like it did to so many others, he didn’t show it.

Gripping onto Alastor tightly, Dante tried to get a jab into the armored demon only for its great sword to appear in his hands in time to parry Dante’s Stinger. Momentarily thrown off balance, the demon saw a chance to strike and landed a solid hit on Dante. The devil hunter just winced as he noticed the cut over his chest on his beloved leather jacket. 

Great, now he needs to buy another one.

The demon teleported onto the gates of the fortress and gestured for Dante to follow him. Dante didn’t need to be told twice. This bastard had Yamato, and one way or another, Dante was going to find out why. 

“A cat and mouse game, huh? Don’t mind if I do.”

Jumping onto the edge of the divide, Dante barely lifted his sword in time to block a strike from Yamato. Parrying, Dante jumped away to get some more distance between the two of them. From the short few minutes of them fighting, Dante was sure of two things. One this demon was strong. And two, he hasn’t shown all his moves.

Unleashing a fast fury of sword strikes on the demon, Dante saw an opening. With the demon staggered from Dante’s rush assault, Dante equipped Ifrit and charged up for a devastating attack. Before the demon could recover, Dante unleashed a charged uppercut on the demon, launching him in the air. Dante managed to land a good amount of hits before the armored demon teleported out of Dante’s range.

The demon was hunched over, almost as if trying to catch his breath. Jackpot! Dante switched back to Alastor and tried to carry out a stinger on the demon only for him to jump over Dante and kick Alastor out of Dante’s hand. The two swiftly traded punches, until the armored demon managed to knock Dante straight into a wall with a well-timed kick.

Yamato hovered hesitantly over Dante’s chest as the half-devil groaned in pain. It was the sound of Yamato falling to the floor that snapped Dante out of his pain-filled daze. Instead of attacking Dante while he was down the demon clutched his head as if in pain and let out an inhuman shriek. 

Dante pushed himself up and quickly swiped up Yamato while the armored demon was distracted. Still clutching his head with one hand, the demon reached out towards Dante’s amulet before fading away.

It was only once the demon left that Dante realized what happened in the aftermath of his fight against the demon. The same demon who was able to use Yamato who, before clutching his head, starred at a red amulet resting on Dante’s chest. 

Yamato.

The Perfect Amulet.

Having a reaction to one would be a coincidence. But both? Holy shit. Demons may react to Yamato’s power, but his amulet was worthless to them. There’re only three people who understand its significance, one is dead, one came back and the other… that demon was Vergil. Vergil who did God knows what to his son to get Yamato. Vergil, who was forced into this shell of his former self by Mundus (as if Dante needed another reason to what to bring the pain to Mundus).

The nausea clawed its way up to his throat as Dante forced down the bile. Vergil may have been an ass, but he didn’t deserve to have his will stripped clean. To be a living puppet for Mundus to control and use against Dante or their dad. He already knew Mundus was a sick bastard. But this? This was so much worse than Dante could ever imagine.

“Dante, why does Yamato rest in your hands?”

Dante was snapped from his bitter thoughts by Sparda’s cautious voice. Dante briefly looked down at the Devil Arm before turning his gaze back to his father. Pushing down all the conflicting thoughts and emotions running through his head Dante responded, “It was Verge.”

Sparda didn’t even try to hide the surprise that filled his face as he probed Dante for more answers. At first, Dante couldn’t bring himself to explain his answer (he knew it sounded cryptic as hell). Dante never was one to beat around the bush; if he wanted to say something, he said it, no filter used. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Sparda. Saying it would make it true. 

And admitting that Vergil, his head headed, stubborn twin, had been stripped of his ego and was nothing more than a shell of his former self was more than Dante could take.

“Dante please.” Sparda pleaded, practically begging as he placed his hands on his youngest son’s shoulders. “Yamato would not part from Nero, even under the most dire of circumstances.”

When Dante still couldn’t bring himself to say anything, the hands on his shoulders were removed, only to quickly circle around his back and push his head into Sparda’s chest.

It took Dante a moment too long to realize what happened. A… Hug…? How long had it been since anyone last hugged Dante, let alone his dad? It felt more comforting; so much warmer than he remembered it feeling. Sparda kept his grip on Dante firm, yet gentle as the half-devil snaked his arms around his father’s back.

This gentle show of affection and comfort was all Dante needed to tell Sparda of his confrontation with Vergil. He explained his twin’s twisted appearance, his eerie way of fighting, but most importantly his lack of speech. The Vergil Dante knew would always go off about Dante’s lack of strength or resolve, he would taunt Dante back once in a while, but this version of him? This corrupted, warped version of him? He was unnervingly silent, only making a noise of pain after locking onto Dante’s amulet.

Sparda’s eyes hardened after hearing Dante’s recounting of Vergil’s status as he continued to hold Dante in his arms. Guilt flashed through his mind, which was quickly replaced by his fury. 

How dare Mundus do this to his sons. Was his wife not enough? Was traumatizing his boys and turning them against one another not enough? Now he turned his elder son into an egoless puppet for him to command and dragged his innocent (defenseless) grandson into this? The very thought made the devil’s blood boil. He will make Mundus remember why he held the title ‘The Legendary Dark Knight’. Mundus will regret thinking he could get away will laying a hand on his family.

When Dante felt more sure of himself, he pushed away from Sparda’s warm, much to the older devil’s surprise. “This is just another reason to kick Mundus’s ass.” Sparda gave his son a curt nod and scanned their surroundings, trying to see if he could sense Nero’s presence.

“Nero must be our priority. I shall search for him. I am afraid you must fight Mundus on your own.” Dante scowled. If Nero was their priority, why was Sparda telling him to fight Mundus? Noticing Dante’s sour expression, Sparda clarified, “With Yamato, I should be able to detect Nero’s location and free him from his confines. It is for the best that Mundus remains unaware of our knowledge of Nero’s situation; for that reason, you must distract him.”

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy breath. That made sense. And while Dante wanted nothing more than to save the kid himself, his way of fighting draws way too much attention for him to be subtle enough to rescue Nero from under Mundus’s nose. Hard blue eyes locked onto one another as Dante agreed to Sparda’s plan.

With that, the two went their separate ways and began their counterattack on Mundus.

* * *

The first part of Trish’s task was done. Luring Sparda and Dante to Mallet Island was easier than she anticipated; though it was most likely due to the grudge they had towards her master, Mundus. Since the two were separated, it should be easier than to take eliminate them, or at the very least weaken them substantially. 

And if that’s not enough… they still had a backup plan.

Blue eyes locked onto a familiar white-haired part devil currently bound by her lighting. It would seem Nelo Angelo completed his task before Trish even arrived at the island. He was probably somewhere on in the fortress confronting Sparda or his son. Not that that was any of Trish’s business. She completed her duty, all that was left was for her to await her master’s next order.

Picking at her nails, Trish leaned her head against a wall as she thought back to Dante’s words to her when they got off the boat and onto the dock of the island. Sparda went ahead, claiming the scout the area while Dante stayed back to secure the docked boat (not that it would be needed after Mundus had his way). 

_Before Trish could follow Sparda, she froze as a chill went down her spine. The blonde demoness didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Dante’s murderous intent barely slipping from his glare. Quickly hiding her thoughts (and fear) under the mask of indifference, Trish turned to face the Legendary Devil Hunter._

_“If you have something to say, might as well spit it out.”_

_Blue eyes narrowed slightly before Dante quietly warned, “I don’t trust you, but if what you’re saying about Mundus is true, then we’ll kick his ass and pop some beers.” Trish raised an eyebrow in mock interest while Dante stalked closer to her, stopping when he was only a few inches from her face._

_“But if this is a set-up just to take a shot at my old man…” The half-devil didn’t even care to hide his bloodlust as he continued, “Then I’ll enjoy ripping apart any demon you throw at me.”_

_Trish narrowly suppress the shiver that so eagerly wished to travel through her. She couldn’t slip. Not now. Not with Dante and Sparda so close. And more importantly, not knowing what Mundus does to demons that fail to complete their orders._

_The corner of Trish’s lips twitched upwards as she shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “Why don’t you go ahead and find out.”_

_Dante glared at her one last time before shaking his head before following Sparda into the fortress._

A quiet whimper broke Trish from her thoughts as she turned her attention to the rousing part devil. Already awake? That was faster than her master expected. Thankfully she already bound him in her lighting since Nelo Angelo dropped the boy unceremoniously at her feet. He left without so much a word, but Trish did remember seeing him walk away with a Devil Arm (Yamato if she remembered correctly).

Blue eyes blinked drowsily as the boy lifted his left hand. When his left arm wouldn’t lift, he groaned and tried with his right; only to be met with the same result. The part devil quickly shook the heavy pull of sleep clouding his mind as he scanned his surroundings. His eyes widened in terror and apprehension as he realized where he was. 

“Modeus! Where’s Mod—” Nero attempted to get up only to double over in pain as Trish’s lightning sent a shock through his body.

Modeus? So he was in the human realm? And guarding Sparda’s kin? Did that mean he didn’t know of his brother’s fate? Most likely tried of waiting for Sparda to reappear, Baul tried to take on Mundus only to be killed painfully slow. Such is the fate for Devils with too much ambition and not enough strength.

It was for that very reason that Trish had long but resigned herself to her fate of being under Mundus’s command for the rest of her days. What other option did she have? There are, after all, only two ways she dies; either she is killed trying to carry out her master’s orders, or she fails to carry them out and is killed as a consequence. 

A sigh slipped from Trish’s lips as she reduced the voltage flowing through her lightning. She may be on board for sending Sparda and Dante straight to their deaths, but she didn’t feel the same way about using the boy. Trish couldn’t stop the tinge of pity she felt towards the boy.

Much like Trish, he is to be used as a tool to control and destroy Sparda and his kin. The only difference is she was made for the task whereas this part devil will be forced to destroy the devils he has grown to love. What more could she do than to pity him and lessen his sufferings before the fated hour?

 _‘You could free him.’_ A treacherous voice echoed in her head. Trish rolled her eyes against the invasive thought. Oh yeah? Free him, and then what? Suffer the wrath of Mundus? No thanks. Though it’s not much, Trish preferred being able to live.

 _‘Why worry about Mundus? Warn Dante and Sparda of his plans. Surely the two of them can defeat Mundus.’_ Except Master Mundus is the most powerful demon in the realm. And with his ever-loyal general Nelo Angelo at his side, Trish wasn’t sure Dante and Sparda would be able to defeat them.

Trish shook the intrusive thoughts from her mind and turned her attention back to the ‘prisoner’ she had to guard. Nero stopped struggling against his binds once he realized no amount of resistance would break them.

It would appear, that it was this very moment Nero noticed Trish. His eyes widened, whether in distress or concern, Trish didn’t know.

“Trish, did you get captured too?”

Concern then. Odd.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Trish asked, “what do you think kid?”

Seeming to only now notice Trish was free of any binds, Nero slumped lower against the wall holding him up. “Oh.” There was a pregnant pause before Nero spoke up again, 

“where are Dante and gramps?”

“They’ve gone to hunt down Mundus.”

Nero’s brows furrowed in confusion as he considered Trish’s words. “I’m glad you found me, but why aren’t you with them.”

Ah. He believed Trish to be on his side. Which was fair as she hadn’t given him any reason to suspect otherwise. While at this point it didn’t matter whether or not Nero knew of her true intentions, for some elusive reason, Trish didn’t want him to know her plans of betraying his family.

“We’ve split up to look for some clues.”

Nero sent an unsteady smile that would have melted anyone’s heart (but not hers; because Trish was a demon and didn’t have one). Struggling weakly against his bonds, Nero sheepishly looked up to Trish, “Do you mind helping me out?”

Trish wasn’t sure if Nero was truly this innocent or if he was just ignorant of the facts laying in front of him. Thankfully, she never had to give him a response as Mundus’s voice echoed in her mind.

_“Sparda’s spawn awaits you.”_

Had Dante already reached Nightmare? In that case, Trish had no time to waste. “WAIT! TRISH!” Nero called out to her. Trish didn’t let it stop her, despite how much a small part of her wished to stay and talk to Nero more, she had a task to do. (And who knows, maybe with Sparda and Dante dead, Mundus would let Nero live so long as the young part devil pledged his loyalty).

“Before you go, what happened to Modeus! I need to know he’s alright.” Nero practically begged as Trish made her way towards the exit. Looking back at the bound part devil, Trish couldn’t help but feel the same tinge of sympathy towards his situation. There was no way devils cared for other devils she tried to assure herself. Not like this. Doing her best to ignore his pleas, the blonde demoness briskly exited the room. 

As Trish walked down the corridors, she couldn’t help but wonder if when Mundus created her, he used more of Eva than just her appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the bright side, DMC 5 SE!!!! It's been announced! (now to convince my parents to get me a PS5 LOL).
> 
> Also, can I just say Vergil's battle theme is just *Chef's kiss* amazing! I've listened to it on loop for almost the whole day XD


	10. New Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dante off to fight off Mundus, Sparda races against the clock to find his grandson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about this late update! I thought I posted the chapter on Sunday, only to realize I just 'save as draft' when I came back to do some post-chapter editing ._.

Sparda’s grip on Yamato never loosened as he tried to pry as much information from his former blade as he could. 

To his surprise, Yamato spoke incoherently, something he did not believe the Devil Arm could do. From what the devil remembered, Yamato was always poised and only spoke once she was sure of what she wished to speak of, seeing her act like this concerned Sparda greatly. He caught traces of Nero’s name, along with Vergil’s as well as Trish, but everything else was a jumble of words

Upon realizing that he won’t get a coherent answer from Yamato, Sparda gave up trying to probe her for information and instead asked her to help him find Nero. A sudden flash of images poured into the devil’s head containing a series of hallways leading towards a locked room heavily guarded by the panther-like demon he was fighting earlier that day.

Honestly, Sparda shouldn’t have been so surprised seeing demons guarding the area of his grandson’s confinement. But perhaps that was a sign that Mundus wasn’t aware of the plan he and Dante shared. With the element of surprise on his side, Sparda sent Yamato into the same plane he kept his other weapons in and proceeded through the fortress.

Sparda had a plan.

He had a plan and a set of next steps. 

So where was this impending sense of unease coming from? It was biting away at him as acid did to metal; not at the forefront of his thoughts, but a constant presence unwilling to go away. Dread creeps through the devil’s body like an invisible spider, carefully leaving a numb trail behind it as it crawls down his spine.

All of a sudden, it was as if Sparda was back in Fortuna’s castle, rushing through the halls searching aimlessly to locate Nero. Not knowing what state his grandson would be him once the devil finally reached him. These thoughts, this feeling, it was all too familiar and was something he never wished to feel again in his life, and yet, here he was. The knife of misery broke through all his defenses and pierced through his heart as he realized the implications of Nero being at Mallet Island instead of back home at Devil May Cry.

Modeus!

What happened to his cherished apprentice? He was left to look after Nero, and there was no possible means of Nero escaping Modeus’s watch and sneaking to Mallet Island (they had, after all, taken the only boat available). And if there was a fight… Sparda knows the golden-eyed devil would give him life to protect Nero.

Sparda could only imagine the horror that will await them once they have beaten Mundus. All Sparda could do was hope that Modeus would recognize a fight he wouldn’t be able to win and retreated (however, knowing how righteous his apprentice was, that was most unlikely).

Sparda’s warring thoughts quickly settled on one matter: Mundus was going to suffer when he died tonight. It was bad enough that Mundus killed his beloved Eva. But then he traumatized both his sons and forced them to fight for themselves. He made Nero a target and dragged him here, causing, who knows what harm to his (small, defenseless) grandson. He attacked and most likely killed Modeus. And Sparda could only guess what Mundus has done to his elder son, Vergil (no matter how much the devil tried, he could not shake the scarred look on Dante’s face as he explained his encounter with the soulless body of his brother).

It was his fear, of what has been done and what will be done to his family, that brings about Sparda’s rage. It became a hot, burning, air of rage that pushed for Sparda to harm and decimate anything in his path. This twisted, distorted, sense of fury filled his thoughts, demanding revenge on the one who wronged him. It pulsed through his veins, holding all the power of a wildfire, ready to ignite anything in his sights.

Which is exactly why when he sensed the presence of a familiar black demonic panther, Sparda didn’t even hesitate to summon Force Edge, turning towards the direction of the demon, eager for the opportunity to release his pent-up anger.

Only to stop when he recognized a familiar head of white hair clinging onto the demon’s back.

Nero?

But how?

The demon stopped a few feet from Sparda, letting out a low growl at the devil. Nero peeked up from its fur and let out a small gasp when his eyes locked onto Sparda’s. The young part-devil whispered something into the demon’s ear before slipping of its back and running towards Sparda.

Despite the circumstances, Sparda felt his lips twitch upwards as he met his grandson halfway.

Nero immediately latched onto Sparda’s waist as the elder devil knelt down so as to reach the younger’s height. For a while, the two just stood there, basking in the warmth and presence of the other. Gracious to have finally been reunited with a member of their family. It was only a few moments later that Sparda heard soft sniffles and a held back sob from his grandson.

Softly rubbing (what he hoped to be) comforting circles around the younger part devil’s back, Sparda picked him up and murmured soft reassurances to Nero. Nero simply buried his head deeper into Sparda’s shoulder as more tears spilled down his face.

“ ‘m sorry ‘bout Modeus.” Despite being muffled by Sparda’s shoulders, the elder devil could still clearly hear Nero’s voice. “If I move, I could’ve helped him—but I just stood there—and now… Now I don’t even know if he’s alive! And then that demon, h-he-he brought me here, then Trish was waiting, and, and—”

Nero rapidly rambled on as Sparda struggled to keep up with his story. Now, this won’t do at all. Swallowing his own worries about his apprentice, Sparda assured, “Modeus is quite the powerful devil; after all, I would not train just any devil I stumble upon.” 

Nero’s sobs stopped as he peeked up at Sparda and sniffled some more before apprehensively asking for confirmation. Sparda nodded his head firmly before reassuring his grandson. Nero stared into Sparda’s eyes as if searching them for something. He must have found it, because next thing Sparda knew, Nero was wiggling against his arms, asking to be put down.

Complying with his grandson’s wishes, Sparda set Nero down on the ground and watched as he ran towards the demonic panther from earlier. Sparda gazed uncertainly at the demonic panther that had yet to move as Nero scratched behind its ear. The demon let out a low purr as Nero offered Sparda a small smile.

Walking closer to the demon and his grandson, Sparda marveled at how Nero tamed the demon Sparda remembered fighting only moments ago. “If I may ask Nero, how were you able to tame this demon?”

Nero’s small smile grew a bit larger as he rubbed his free hand sheepishly over the bridge of his nose. “That’s actually a kinda funny story…” 

Sparda lifted a brow in interest and responded, “Do tell.”

A slight blush dusted Nero’s cheeks as he began recounted how he met and tamed the demonic panther, he affectionately called Shadow.

Apparently soon after Nero gained consciousness, he was greeted by Trish who shortly after he started asking her questions. In her place was a black demonic panther who (what he overheard) was to stand guard and watch him. However, before Nero could say or do anything, three red eyes hovered ominously over the demon’s head. 

A booming voice expressed it’s disappointment in the demon, Shadow, for failing to kill Dante or Sparda and landed a fatal hit onto her. Nero couldn’t stand that. Wasn’t that demon working for Mundus? And even if she did fail that didn’t mean she had to die for it! So Nero did the only thing he could in that situation.

Summoning a Vital Star from his Devil Bringer (Modeus insisted Nero kept some on him while they trained), he tried calling out to the demon. Shadow weakly looked up from where she was slowly dying on the floor, unable to move closer towards the only thing that could possibly save her. 

So Nero did something he most definitely regretted at that moment. He moved against his lightning bindings, wincing and biting back groans of pain as he shuffled his way over to the dying demon. Dropping the Vital Star as close to Shadow as he could, the only thing Nero could now do was watch and hope the demon consumed the item.

To his relief, Shadow managed to get the Star into her mouth and crunched away at it, quickly regaining her strength. Standing up, Shadow glanced around the room, before glancing at Nero and then the door. Nero half expected Shadow the just leave, but to his surprise, black tendrils formed from the base of her tail and poked at his bindings, pulling at them in an attempt to loosen them.

Realizing that wouldn’t work, Shadow’s tail turned into a scythe and managed to cut through Nero’s bindings. Now free, Nero looked at the demon wide-eyed in disbelief. Shadow gestured at her back. Nero quickly put two and two together and realized she wanted him to climb onto him. A grin broke out on the young part devil’s face as he climbed onto Shadow’s back, letting her guide him to their next destination.

“-only that led to you.”

To say Sparda was surprised would have been quite the understatement. His grandson was more resourceful than he gave him credit for. Then again this was the same child that fixed a broken Devil Arm, and intuitively knew how to use his Devil Breaker. Perhaps taming a demon wasn’t too out of the ordinary for the younger part devil.

With Nero safe and accounted for, all that was left was for Sparda to figure out where his wayward son has gone off to. Sparda didn’t need to fight Dante to know how much stronger his youngest son has grown. He had no doubt Dante would be able to hold his own against Mundus, at least long enough for Sparda to find Vergil and rush back to help assist against the fight with Mundus. With his next step seemingly decided, Sparda summoned Yamato and handed the Devil Arm back to Nero.

The Legendary Dark Knight knew that he couldn’t leave Nero alone and that his grandson would want to fight alongside him. By giving Yamato back to Nero Sparda is at least giving Nero a fighting chance against Mundus’s minions. 

Now all that was left was to find Vergil so the three could make their way back to Dante.

* * *

As soon as Dante is done with this island, he’s going straight back to his office and shutting himself inside. He’s not even going to think about his bills, or his debt to Lady, or any other jobs Morrison will undoubtedly shove down his throat.

And honestly? He thinks he deserves that much after all the pain and hassles this job was. Dante prays (to a God he doesn’t believe in) that his dad finds Nero and Vergil before Dante beats Mundus’s ass to High Haven. The half-devil preferred to get off this stupid island a soon as possible.

Making his way into the next room, Dante forced himself to pause and look around. The entire area glowed an ominous red, with runes carved onto the ceiling (and now Dante regrated not paying attention to Lady when she explained runes to him). Well, whatever they meant, they couldn’t be good for him. 

Dante’s fingers tensed, eager to summon one of his swords and swing at the first thing that moved. Forcing the impulse down, he glanced at his surroundings trying to pin down what it was about this room that put his nerves on edge. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of a powerful demon in his vicinity and prayed that it wasn’t Vergil. Now that he knew that suit of armor was really his brother, there was no way he could bring himself to fight him again.

It was then that he noticed a familiar blonde laying on the floor not too far from him. Rushing over to the unconscious demon, he shook her shoulder and called out her name in an attempt to wake her up (and hopefully give him some answers).

“Dante…?” A weak and unsure voice spoke up as Trish gazed up at Dante. Suddenly her blue eyes widened as she gained more awareness of where she was Trish hastily got up, ignoring her own injuries, and struggled to push Dante away from her.

“You have to leave! It’s a trap!”

That was the only warning Dante got before a blue, almost translucent, barrier surrounded Dante and Trish, effectively trapping them where they stood. Pulling Alastor from his back, Dante stood protectively in front of Trish. Stealing a glance to the demoness behind him, Dante impatiently asked, “what’s going on Trish?”

The blonde demon gave up on straightening herself and held her head down in shame. Before Dante could demand answers from Trish, a demon started to materialize in front of him. 

So _this_ was the demon Dante sensed when he stepped into this room? The sludge demon? Again? Dante couldn’t fight the grin that broke onto his face. Finally, something he can take his frustration out on. Dante shot Trish one last glance before turning his attention back to the fully formed demon, “Y’know what? Hold onto that for a now.”

A thin, bright, white beam shot out from the demon’s central eye, destroying anything that came into contact with its linear path. Dante was quick to dodge the beam, “This isn't a nice way to greet your guests.”

The demon said nothing and began to turn back into the sludge pile Dante was more familiar with. Using that as an opportunity to get some hits in, Dante quickly closed in the distance and landed as many strikes as he could until small blobs broke off from the demon’s body and homed in on Dante. Jumping to avoid the first attack, the Legendary Devil Hunter blocked the next onslaught before rolling away from the demon.

Maintaining his distance, Dante lets loose Ebony and Ivory, waiting to see the demon’s next move. “Don’t tell me that’s all you can do?” It was then that Dante felt something bite into his leg, causing him to look down. A weird creature (probably made from the demon) latched onto his leg. Now that won’t do. Swiping at it with his sword, Dante turned his attention back to the demon’s main body.

This wasn’t too bad—is what Dante would have said if the demon wasn’t trying to wrap itself around him. Already the demon turned into a net-like shape and tried to drop onto him more times than Dante could count. It was getting annoying dodging the demon all the time. So Dante took advantage of every opening. Whenever the demon switched moves, Dante landed as many hits as he could, always keeping an eye out for projectiles or the strange creatures the demon summoned.

With one final stab through the demon’s core, it crumbled into an unmoving blob. With that done and over with, Dante turned his attention back to Trish. Kneeling down in front of her, he offered a vital star, “You’ve got some explaining to do Trish.”

The blonde demoness glanced hesitantly at Dante’s face and then the vital star before finally accepting the curative. Crunching down on the green orb, the more severe of Trish’s injuries healed up. She glanced back up at Dante, searching his storming eyes for something. Running her hand through her hair after finally making her way to her feet, Trish explained, “Like I said, this whole job is a trap.” 

Trish explained her origins, how she was created to lure Dante (and Sparda when word reached Mundus of his return) to Mallet Island. How Mundus’s prized General, Nelo Angelo, was but a half-devil (whom she eventually realized was Vergil) who was broken into an empty shell of the man he once was. Of Mundus’s ploy to end Sparda’s bloodline: either by death or servitude. 

Dante listened silently to the whole story, letting it sink in before he tried asking any questions. So that demon he fought in the armor _was_ Vergil. Shit. How the hell were they going to bring him back? Was that why they went after Nero? Because he had Sparda’s blood. As if Dante needed another reason to go after Mundus’s—

Lightning crackled by Dante’s head as his hair stood up from the static. Turning his head behind him, he saw the demon constantly twitch from the lightning encasing its body. Trish saved him? Why? If she was working with Mundus, why didn’t she just let the demon trap him?

“If you were created by Mundus, why’d you help me just now?”

A sigh spilled from Trish’s lips as she looked up at the glowing red runes. There were many reasons why Trish decided to betray Mundus. After not being able to dispatch of Sparda and Dante quickly enough, Mundus sent her to death’s doors, only to be saved by Dante (who didn’t fully trust her). Then there was Nero’s words of desperation and his unwavering trust in her to do good, to _be_ good. And how could she forget Eva. The human she was molded after. It’s as if along with Eva’s appearance, Trish gained the woman’s heart as well.

Shrugging, Trish felt the corner of her lips twitching upwards in a faint smile, “I guess I’m more human than Mundus intended.”

Dante searched her face, looking for any sense of deceit in her words, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as he stared at Trish. He nodded once, seemingly accepting her answer and new resolve. 

Shooting Trish his signature smirk, Dante suggested, “Help me kill Mundus, and we’ll call it even.”

And what more could Trish do with that than agree wholeheartedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deleted Scene:
> 
> Sparda: *Runs through hallways looking for Nero while killing any demons in his path*
> 
> Mundus: Hey Sparda!
> 
> Sparda:
> 
> Mundus: Sparda!
> 
> Sparda:
> 
> Mundus: Spardaaaaa! Look at me!
> 
> Sparda: WHAT!
> 
> Mundus: Bitch


	11. Family Above All Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Nero safe and sound, the Sparda's turn their attention to the only threats left: Mundus and Nelo Angelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more fun than I thought I would writing Nelo Angelo's POV this chapter XD

Nelo Angelo did not know what to expect when his master ordered him to capture the newest of Sparda’s Spawns. Nor did he know what happened when he saw the boy summon a ~~familiar-looking~~ Devil Arm.

Somehow the blade called out to him. She called him… Vergil.

Nelo Angelo was not familiar with that name. Yet for some reason, there was a voice in the back of his mind, pleading at him to listen to the Devil Arm. _Yamato_ , the voice seemed to claim. _Vergil_ , the sword claimed. However, those names meant nothing to him. A few faces flashed through Nelo Angelo’s mind as sounds and emotions he could not identify tugged at the back of his mind.

Dismissing them as elaborate distractions, Nelo Angelo banished them to the back of his mind. Master Mundus created Nelo Angelo, these… images and concepts, they were no more than illusions created by the boy and the Devil Arm to trick Nelo Angelo and divert from his objective. Instead of pondering over the memories any longer, the devil picked up the boy’s unconscious body from the ground and made his way back to his Master on Mallet Island.

Only to stop in his tracks when the Devil Arm, ~~Yamato~~ , materialized from the boy’s demonic arm and fell harmlessly onto the ground. A strange need dug itself into Nelo Angelo’s mind, forcing him to pick up the blade. It told him to never let the blade go. To never let this part devil out of his sight. Yet it wasn’t enough for him to deviate from his master’s orders.

Instead, the general left the boy with Trish and took the Devil Arm with him to his next objective.

Sparda’s elder spawn was much more of a challenge than the boy and the demon guarding him. He had met Nelo, strike for strike, blow for blow. The red-clad devil would also try to taunt Nelo with words or actions. While Nelo Angelo knew better than to let the devil’s taunts distract him, he couldn’t fight against the deep ache in his heart as a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to say something ~~foolishness~~ to his opponent.

But his master trained him well, and Nelo Angelo never dignified Dante so much as a response to the taunts. Somehow his indifferent attitude did not seem to discourage Dante as his opponent continued to throw taunts his way as he fluidly dodged Nelo Angelo’s teleportation strikes.

Knocking the sword out of the red devil’s hands proved to tip the battle into Nelo Angelo’s favor. As soon as it turned into a fistfight, the general was able to beat Dante in raw power. Summoning the Devil Arm ~~Yamato~~ into his hand, Nelo pointed the blade towards Dante only to freeze when he noticed the piece of jewelry resting around Dante’s throat. 

A silver amulet with a relatively large ruby attached to it. 

~~Where had he seem this before~~

Why couldn’t he move anymore?

~~V--g--, ---te, Happy Birthday!~~

What are these visions?!?

~~DA---! MAMA!~~

A deep and pain-filled scream ripped its way out of Nelo Angelo’s throat as he threw his head back in pain. He clutched his throbbing head, not realizing he had dropped ~~his~~ Devil Arm. His mind was complete chaos. A jumbled, muddled, mess.

Flashes of his master’s ~~torture~~ training and glimpses of people he hadn’t ~~seen in ages~~ known passed through his head. The voice at the back of his mind grew louder now than it had ever been. Something from deep within him ached severely. Something felt so very wrong, so fallacious, but he could not tell what it was. Nelo Angelo tried desperately to recall what it was that caused him to enter this downwards spiral of endless doubt and pain but yielded no results.

Had he performed poorly on one of his master’s orders? 

~~That bastard is no master of mine~~

Was it true that the Devil Arm he took from the boy was cursed?

~~Yamato would never do something so crude~~

Just like when staring down at a jumbled set of a puzzle, Nelo Angelo’s confusion overwhelmed all of his other senses, he never even noticed that he teleported himself away from where he was fighting Dante. Staggering forward, Nelo Angelo ripped his helmet off his face and dug his fingers into his head.  
What was happening to –

“Are you sure he’s been here?” a hushed voice broke Nelo Angelo from his spiral, and finally gave him a chance to force down his overwhelming visions. 

“That is what Yamato is suggesting.” A second ~~familiar~~ voice answered firmly.

Nelo Angelo sensed three presences yet only heard two voices. And one of them was… Shadow? Had she managed to sneak up on the two other demons waiting for her chance to strike? Before he is able to even gain control over himself again, he was suddenly faced to face with his Master’s ~~he served no man but himself~~ greatest enemy. The Legendary Dark Knight.

Sparda.

Fa--e-.

“Father…?”

As soon as that title slipped through his mind, black dots filled Nelo Angelo’s vision as he slipped forward expecting to be met with the cold hard floor but was instead enveloped in warmth as he passed out.

“That’s him?” Nero asked in disbelief as he stared down at the devil clad in dark blue armor. Sparda provided him with a curt nod before laying his son carefully on the floor beside him. Nero felt sick as he spied the deep blue veins bulging from his father’s face, “He looks really icky.”

A wince escaped his lips as he realized how insensitive he sounded, “sorry, it’s just… How do I help him?”

Sparda let out a harsh exhale as he scanned his son, trying to verify his son’s condition. “I shall leave Yamato in his presence, perhaps she may assist with his healing as she has done for you.” Placing the Devil Arm in the half-devil’s hand, Sparda lifted Nero’s face so he could lock eyes with the younger part Devil.

“Nero, I’m afraid I must ask a difficult task of you.”

Swallowing his fear, Nero mustered as much courage as he could as he offered his grandfather a sly grin, “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

Almost as if finding his grandson’s smile and courage contagious, Sparda shared a small smile of his own before continuing, “I must assist Dante with eliminating Mundus. I will need you to look after your father… and if you are able to, please pry the armor off his body. If it is what I believe it to be, it must come off as soon as possible.”

Nero felt the corners of his mouth tug downwards as he glanced between his father’s pained face and Sparda’s faith-filled eyes. Summoning his resolve once again, Nero promised his grandfather, resulting in a prideful gaze and ruffled hair.

Standing up, Sparda spared one last look at his son’s pitiful state before calling transforming back into his demonic self and charged straight towards where he felt Mundus’s presence.

Now that it was just him, Shadow, and his father, Nero turned back to his demonic panther, “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to take this all off myself. Uh—could you help take some of the armor off?” Shadow mewled in response and began clawing at his father’s gauntlet.

Well, that worked.

With that, Nero earnestly began to rip off whatever pieces of armor he could.

* * *

As soon as Sparda entered the—partially—destroyed room, he was greeted by the sight of Mundus’s true form.

Facing Mundus was Trish and a red-clad devil… Was that Dante? Calling off his transformation, Dante pulled out his twin guns and shot at a nearby orb. Sparda couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride towards his son. Accepting his human and demonic sides could not have been easy. And yet here his son was. Human and Devil in complete balance. Conjuring his own summon swords, Sparda charged ahead unleased them onto Mundus. Dante met Sparda’s eyes over his shoulder and called out to his father, “Nice of you to join us pops! Just finishing good ole Mundy off here!”

“You dare mock me!” Summoning an array of fireballs, Mundus unleased hell on the three devils before him. Sparda and Dante dodged easily enough, while Trish cut through one with her lightning. Seemingly enraged by their continued resistance, a bright beam emitted from Mundus’s eyes, eviscerating anything in their path. The three devils were quick to dodge the attack before moving in closer to land some hits.

“Your death will be by my hands tonight Sparda!”

“I daresay I would like to see you try.” The Legendary Dark Knight retorted a cocky grin he often sees on his son’s face, lighting his face. 

Trish stayed back, blasting her former master with her lightning. Dante summoned Ifrit and charged his Devil Arm as he closed the distance between him and Mundus. Sparda covered his son with his summon swords while cutting down any orb Mundus summoned. Having sufficiently charged his gloves, Dante unleased a powerful Magma Drive just before Mundus could summon more fireballs causing the Prince of Darkness to stumble.

Using that as an opportunity to land more hits, Trish embedded Dante and Sparda’s weapons with her lightning. Dante called upon his demonic side once more and transformed into his demonic self, coating his blade and bullets with his demonic power. Sparda followed suit and unleashed all the hell and rage he had felt towards Mundus ever since he found what happened to his wife and the fates his children were subjected to due to his actions.

Sparda was going to make sure that this time, there will be no coming back for Mundus. His goal is no longer to seal Mundus away again. It is to kill him. Kill him and leave no trace of his existence on this island or world again. He will make sure that his family will no longer suffer under the threat of Mundus.

The sound of a muffled groan caused Sparda to pry his eyes off Mundus long enough to see Trish’s body go flying past him as she collided with the back wall. Sparda’s momentary distraction proved to be fatal as he noticed too late, Mundus’s rapidly approaching arm. Luckily, Dante seemed to have noticed and moved to intercept the would-be blow.

“Gotta keep your eyes on your dance partner Mundus; or are you trying to make me jealous?” Dante quipped as he deflected Mundus’s attack back onto him causing the devil recoil in pain. Gripping Force Edge, Sparda was not going to let this opening pass him by. 

An enraged growl escaped from Mundus as Force Edge pierced through the central of the Prince of Darkness’s eyes. Trish, who finally recovered enough to join back into the fight summoned more lightning and unleased as much as she could back onto Mundus. Mundus was on his last legs—Sparda could feel it!

With one final roar of Fury, Mundus sends out a thick, more powerful beam towards the three of them. Trish barely dodges in time, getting nicked on her upper arm. Sparda managed to roll away from it, and Dante who had already been behind Mundus, prior to his last-ditch attack, pierced one of Mundus’s eyes with Alastor and used Ifrit to destroy the remaining eye.

“Defeated… by tainted blood…how…?”

“Simple old friend,” Mundus sneered at Sparda, just as he knew the other devil would. “You have lost a just reason to fight. It is for that reason I defeated you all those years ago, and why, once again you were defeated here today by my son.”

Sparda glanced back at his son, pride once again making itself known on his face, “only this time, for good. You shall never walk this realm, or any other, again Mundus.”

Dante shook his head before leaning against his sword, “aww, don’t say that old man. I really wanted to tell Mundus to give my son my regards.” The purple cladded devil fixed his son a hard glare, causing him to raise his hands in surrender.

“You gotta admit, it would’ve been a hilarious tradition; Every few decades a Son of Sparda, shows up to woop Mundus’s ass—it’d be like a rite of passage in this family.”

“I never thought of you as someone who would even want a kid” Trish teased as she stood beside Dante watching her former master’s body slowly dissolved before her. The red-clad devil shrugged, “Not really, but hey—it’s the thought that counts.” 

The two shared a laugh as Sparda pinched the bridge of his nose. Looks like he needed to add fixing Dante’s devil-may-care attitude right after lecturing Vergil about responsibilities and raising demonic towers. 

But he supposed that could wait until after they find a way to restore Vergil back to his former self and indulge in a bit of celebration. Sparda allowed himself to bask in the glory of the recent battle. He could have never hope to have killed Mundus; last he tried, the best he could do was seal Mundus away for two millennia. Yet, with Dante (and by courtesy, Trish) he had managed to do just that.

Perhaps this was a sign that Dante had surpassed him? And if it was, that would be all the better. Sparda felt nothing but love and pride towards his son. He was grateful that this chapter of their lives is finally over. No one else would be able to rip his family’s peace away so easily again.

And if there were any dumb enough to try…? Well, they couldn’t be harder than Mundus now could they?

“So, where’s the kid?” Dante asked as he shared a Vital Star with Trish.

“I have left him with Vergil. Nero should be taking off his armor as we speak.” A grimace spilled from Dante’s lips, no doubt remembering the state of his twin when he last saw him. The trio of devils took a few more minutes to collect themselves before making their way over to where Sparda left Nero.

* * *

Dante honestly didn’t think it was possible for this day to bring him anymore surprises. First, his mother comes back from the dead in the form of Trish. Then he finds out his nephew was kidnaped by his father’s worst enemy. But finding out his brother’s been alive and enslaved since the events of Temen-Ni-Gru definitely won the cake of worst surprises.

Honestly, the only good thing that came from this trip was finally putting an end to Mundus. And well… finding his brother again. And probably meeting Trish, now that he thought about it—if there were any jobs Dante didn’t want to do he could just send them to Trish! Okay, maybe Mallet Island was worth the trip after all.

It didn’t end up taking them too long to find Nero and his brother. Turns out Nero managed to get all of Nelo Angelo’s armor off during his fight with Mundus and had been dragging Vergil’s unconscious body on the back of… was that the demon his dad was fighting earlier that day? When the hell did Nero meet the demon—let alone tame her? Is she coming back to the shop with them?

Shadow hissed as Dante tried to approach her, only to stop as soon as Nero began to scratch behind her ear. Dante stepped back, content just to watch Shadow purr against Nero’s hand. God this was too cute. Nero needed to stop with how cute he could be. Well, if Nero really wants to bring Shadow home, there was no way Dante was going to deny him that.

Dante forced himself to tear his gaze from Nero and his new pet, and instead stared at the unconscious body of his twin brother. Despite all their differences and disagreements, this wasn’t something he wished for his brother. It just hurt to see his once prideful and assertive brother be reduced to a puppet with its strings cut.

Swallowing past his unease, Dante turned towards his father, “how do we fix Verge?” At first, Sparda didn’t say or do anything. His eyes glanced briefly at Yamato resting in Vergil’s hand and Vergil’s pained face before taking Yamato out of Vergil’s hand. 

Before Dante could even think to stop him, Sparda aimed Yamato straight over Vergil’s chest and brought the sword down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here, after a month-long wait (sorry about that ;-;)!
> 
> Next chapter should be up as soon as I finish editing it (so by Monday ish)! It's going to be from the perspective of someone I haven't written before so I'm excited to see how you'll react to it!


	12. From Father to Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Mundus defeated and Vergil freed from his clutches, the Spardas celebrate and help Vergil get back on his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T^T I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out!!! My laptop kept crashing so I had to send it in for repairs and since I hate using cloud storage I had to rewrite this chapter from scratch loll (Gonna start using my OneDrive account now).
> 
> Between having to rewrite the chapter, exams/summatives, and getting addicted to Genshin Impact this chapter got delayed further than I thought-but I hope you all enjoy this conclusion!

Vergil woke up in a body that was not his own. 

His limbs ached in protest as he tried to get off the bed he was resting on. His throat all but dried up—most likely a sign of numerous days of unconsciousness. Vergil is aware that injured, (given his body’s refusal to move) and that he was better off resting, however, his mind left him in a restless state of anxiety, no doubt due to not knowing where he was nor who brought him here. 

Now that he thought about it, there was much Vergil did not seem to recall. For instance, why was he so thin? Being a half-devil practically guaranteed a superior physique. Yet Vergil wasn’t sure he could lift anything heavier than a chair. 

He felt so… weak. 

So… human.

Taking a quick look at his surroundings, Vergil noticed that he appeared to be in some sort of house. A brief look out the window confirmed his assumption as he noticed a large, yet perfectly trimmed, lawn; a small vehicle facing a thin road seemed to be visible from the window in his room. It appeared to have been early in the morning if the rising sun and no one outside the house’s premise were any indication. If Vergil were to escape now would be the best time.

Forcing himself off the ~~inviting~~ bed, Vergil figured he could worry about his situation later, for now, he needed to escape before his captors returned. The half-devil instinctively reached out for his beloved Devil Arm only to feel a hollowing gap where it had once resided within him. 

Yamato was… missing?

No!

She must have been stolen! Snatched away from him by his captors. ~~He refused to believe Mundus got his filthy hands on Yamato.~~ The creaking of floorboards snapped Vergil out of his panic forcing his attention to the door of the room. The half-devil prepared to launch himself at whoever came through that door; hopefully catching them by surprise and getting some answers about his situation.

However, as soon as the door opened, Vergil caught himself hesitating. Standing on the other side of the door was a young boy with a painfully familiar presence. The boy’s blue eyes widened as he gaped at Vergil. The tray in his hands dipped forward slightly before the boy caught himself and straightened it out.

“You’re… awake?”

Vergil continued to stare coldly at the boy. 

“I…um… I have some food if you want any?”

The half-devil caught himself staring at the boy’s sliver hair—a trademark of those carrying Sparda’s blood. This had to be a trap. Sparda only had two children—himself and Dante—before dying. And however immature and irresponsible Dante was, he would not risk having a child (lest they undergo the same fate as the Sons of Sparda). If his captors thought they could lower Vergil’s guard by having some boy pose as Dante’s or his father’s son, then they will soon get what was coming for them. 

“Okay then… I’ll just leave this here in case.”

The boy set the tray on a table near the door before quickly turning around and exiting the room. Looks like he _really_ had to leave now. Before Vergil could do anything else, the boy peeked his head through the doorway and meekly spoke, “I’m glad you’re finally awake—just stay here till I get Gramps.”

With that, the boy bolted out of the room once again. The sound of feet hitting the floor quietened as Vergil was once again left to his own devices. Firstly, he had to find Yamato. Once he had his trusted Devil Arm, he’d open a portal that was anywhere but here and then form a plan on what to do later.

Vergil felt his knees buckling as he slowly made his way towards the door. Using the wall as a support, the half-devil made it to the hallway before pausing to catch his breath. He truly underestimated how weak his body had become. Taking in his surroundings, Vergil froze as he saw his reflection from a mirror in the hallway.

Black hair. Green eyes. A thin, shriveled body. What happened to him? WHAT HAD THESE PEOPLE DONE TO HIM!

Rage swelled in Vergil's chest as the weight of his situation crashed down on him. How dare they not only strip him of his demonic heritage but also take away Yamato—the one thing he treasured more than his own life? Using his anger and hate as fuel, Vergil marched down the stairs only to freeze for what felt like the tenth time that day.

Standing before him was the boy he had seen earlier who was talking to… his father? Sparda was sitting onto a demon—Force Edge pinning his thigh to the demon’s chest. The demon _felt_ achingly familiar—like Vergil should be able to tell who it was just by a quick glance. But why could he not put a name to the face? Neither of the two devils noticed him as Vergil stared at the two in shock.

A warm hand slapped Vergil on the shoulder as a voice he never thought he’d hear again taunted, “Gee Verge, here I thought you’d never wake up.” 

It was at the exact moment Vergil set eyes on his twin brother that his world came crashing down. Memories of their battle in Temen-Ni-Gru and his descent to Hell played through Vergil’s mind. Then there was the presence of Mundus, looming over the back of his head—mocking him, belittling him, promising more pain to come from his ever-frail body.

Following closely after were flashes of pain, blood, and torture. Memories of his enslavement under Mundus flooded his mind like water from a broken dam. Vergil remembered his fights with Dante as Mundus’s slave, his encounters with the boy before him as well as his father stabbing him with Yamato.

Why…? Why would his father have done this to him?

Before Vergil could organize his mind, Sparda was gone—only to appear right before Vergil. Warm arms engulfed him as Vergil tried to regain his bearings. Sparda lightly guided Vergil’s head to his shoulder as he whispered softly, “All is well now my child.”

Ever since the day of the fire, Vergil sometimes found himself dreaming of how a situation like this would play out. His brother alive and by his side. His father back from the dead. Vergil thought he’d break down—crying out to his family due to sheer relief. Other times he’d curse them, blame them for being too late, and cut them down. He’d even thought that he would feel indifferent towards his family and simply leave them behind.

However, Vergil could only stand in shock, surrounded by the warmth and _love_ from both his father and brother. He couldn’t help but curse at his heart for skipping a beat, and as much as he tried, he could not stop his body from relaxing from the sheer benevolence he felt from Dante and Sparda. 

Of course, Dante just had to ruin the moment with his stupid remarks, “Hey Vergil—this is where you say something sappy about how happy you are to see your beloved little brother and your dad—who's not dead.” Vergil felt himself groan at Dante’s commentary as Sparda chuckled, no doubt amused by their interaction.

“So what do we do with this?”

It is then that they turn their attention back to the boy… who seemed to be poking the fallen demon’s body with the Force Edge.

“Y’know that’s still your old man’s body, right kid?”

The boy shrugged, stealing a glance at Vergil before turning his attention back to Dante, “Well he’s gonna get his old body back anyway, right? Besides he deserves this for what he did to Modeus.”

Sparda let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Nero, Modeus has healed and is well. Now I would ask that you _please_ stop stabbing your father’s body.” The bo—Nero, glared at the demon’s body once more before nodding and giving Sparda back the Force Edge.

Dante summoned Rebellion and shoved her in front of Vergil’s face. Perhaps age truly had deluded his mind. However, it was upon seeing Rebellion that Vergil remembered Yamato. Where was she? Vergil frantically looked around the room, hoping to see his beloved Devil Arm resting peacefully on a surface somewhere, but was unable to find her.

No!

Not Yamato!

Vergil could not live without her!

She was all he had!

~~Family came and went, but Yamato… Yamato was the only one that stayed by his side~~

He could not lose her! 

A small hand yanked down on one of Vergil’s as green eyes locked onto blue. Nero held up his right arm (a demonic arm at that) and Yamato materialized before him, “She’s right here.”

Vergil almost collapsed in relief upon seeing the Devil Arm in Nero’s hand. Yamato called out to him, assuring him that both she and he were safe here. But as Vergil reached out for the katana, she dematerialized back into Nero’s arm.

“Yam’s right Vergil.”

“It is best we restore you and explain what transpired.”

Vergil glances back at Dante and his father after stealing a glance at Nero’s demonic arm. His voice cracking after days of disuse, “Will—will I get her back afterward?” Sparda’s gaze softens as he gazes down at his eldest son before shaking his head.

“I’m afraid there is a long discussion we must partake in before you will be able to receive her.”

Vergil lowered his head in shame, already having an idea as to what his father was referring to. His pursuit of power and his arrogance in his abilities. While Vergil still believes power to be absolute—he understood that his pride and arrogance lead him astray in his journey.

A clap broke through the growing silence as Dante spoke up, “look we can do all the mopey talk later. Right now we really need to get rid of Eyeball McGee before he’s ready for round two.” Sparda nodded once at Dante who presented Rebellion to his brother once again.

“Look all you have to do is stab that demon with Rebellion. Easy Peasy.”

“Are you guys sure we should be doing this _inside_ the house?” Nero asked as he stared down at the demon’s body.

Sparda and Dante both looked absolutely offended at Nero’s question before Dante burst into laughter and Sparda let a chuckle slip from his lips. “An astute observation Nero—sometimes I wonder what we could do without you. Come Dante, let us drag this body out of the house.” Dante and Sparda quickly moved the demon’s body out onto the lawn as Vergil and Nero followed suit.

Staring down at the demon, Vergil raises the sword above its chest and let gravity do the rest.

* * *

Once fully restored, Vergil promptly fell unconscious.

By the time he came to, he was resting in bed with Sparda at his side. Sparda had explained that the demon Vergil had pierced was himself—or at least a part of him. Mundus had… corrupted him. Filled Vergil’s body with his essence. When Sparda had pierced him as Nelo Angelo, he did it so that he could determine where the corruption was strongest. Once that was accomplished, all they had to do was cure the corruption and merge the two halves back together.

The cure required blood from the Qliphoth tree as well as various rare herbs and relics. Dante had been the first to volunteer to go to the Underworld and grab some, taking Yamato (and by extension—Nero) with him. It had taken them, maybe an hour, but Nero complained about how short his trip was.

Upon hearing Nero’s name, and remembering what the boy had told him earlier that day, Vergil’s curiosity got the better of him, “Nero referred to you as his grandfather. Does this mean Dante… _reproduced_?”

It was only due to his enhanced hearing that Vergil was able to pick up on his father's deep sigh under his breath. Sparda said nothing. He simply stood up and peered out the window of Vergil’s room. Vergil held his breath, feeling suffocated by the silence in the room as the tension grew between the two.

“I am very disappointed in your actions Vergil.”

Those words punched all the air out of Vergil’s lungs.

Despite all the torture and humiliation, Vergil had faced, none of that hurt as much as hearing those words out of his father’s lips. This pain was worse than all those demons who would have ripped him to shreds when he was but a child. It was worse than any torment Mundus put him through. Because this time, he deserved it.

“You endangered thousands of lives trying to reclaim a power that was not yours to claim. You had a _son_ and left him to fend for himself! And worst of all, you let your pride control you. You let it dictate your actions, and because of that, not only you but all those who care for you have suffered.”

Blue eyes hardened as Sparda met his son’s eyes. Vergil found himself faltering under his Father’s hard gaze, any rebuttal he had, faltering on his tongue.

“Do you understand the pain you put Dante through? He led himself to believe you to be dead. He blamed himself for your descent to the Underworld. And yet, he jumped at the chance to bring you back.”

“Father, you do not un—”

“I am not finished Vergil.”

Vergil shut his mouth and hung his head down in shame.

“Nero is _your_ son Vergil. And he very nearly died in Fortuna. Because you left him there, oblivious to his lineage. He almost died in my arms Vergil—it was—” Sparda stopped himself and tore his gaze away from Vergil. Once again Sparda looked out the window; however, this time, his eyes softened. And when Vergil took a peek outside, he realized why.

Nero and a black panther seemed to be chasing Dante and another black-haired demon. He summoned a pair of blue spectral arms, managing to grab Dante’s leg, and threw him into a nearby tree. Nero raised his arms in celebration, only to be tackled by Dante in his triggered form as he ruffled the boy’s hair. The two engaged in some sort of wrestling match causing the black-haired demon to laugh as he began petting the panther’s head.

So, this is what his son was like. Vergil didn’t even try to fight the sliver of pride that burned his chest.

“What you have done cannot be excused, Vergil. However, you are not completely at fault for this. I too must share the blame for our family’s misfortune. Afterall, had I not left for Fortuna, Eva may have very well still be alive. You and Dante would not have grown so distant. There would have been no reason for you to go to the Underworld, much less, raise Temen-Ni-Gru.”

Vergil couldn’t help but stare at his father as he viewed his choices in a new light.

Ever since he was a child, Vergil always believed his father to be a powerful devil who could do no wrong. He had strived to be just like his father—it was for that reason he went on his quest for power in the first place. However, what he failed to realize was for as powerful a devil he was, Sparda was an even stronger human. 

That was what Vergil did not understand. Suppressing his human side was a mistake—one he can say he regretted now. It was what gave his quest for power a reason; that is until he foolishly discarded it. Humanity was what inspired his father; it was the fondness for humanity that caused Sparda to gain the power to surpass Mundus and the armies of Hell, it was what brought Dante and Vergil into this world, and it was what Vergil lost to all those years ago during his fight with Dante on Temen-Ni-Gru.

Vergil didn’t know when he started crying. All he remembered was his father’s warm embrace as he consoled the half devil; much like a parent comforting a child after waking up from a nightmare, Sparda held Vergil close to him, muttering tender words of understanding. Vergil let the sense of security he felt in his father’s arms envelop him.

Sooner than Vergil would have liked, his father broke the hug and resting his hands-on Vergil’s shoulders. “I suggest you should freshen up. And when you are ready, you should meet your son.”

With that, Sparda left Vergil alone with only his thoughts to keep him company.

Knowing his son to be safe and sound, Sparda made his way downstairs. Where he expected a strong metallic scent of blood and stains of red, he was instead greeted with a clean-living room with… was that an orange fragrance? Ah, perhaps Modeus or Nero cleaned up the room while he tended to Vergil. 

Waiting for him downstairs was Modeus—his youngest son and grandson nowhere in sight. As if reading his mind, Modeus asked in a teasing tone, “Are you, perhaps, looking for Master Dante and Young Master Nero?” Sparda’s eyes widened slightly before allowing a chuckle to slip from his lips, “I suppose I am. Have they already left?”

“Yeah, he nabbed Yamato and ran,” Nero informed as he appeared behind Sparda.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He said something about wanting to raise a giant demonic tree.”

Ah. His grandson was becoming quite the cheeky young boy, wasn’t he? “Nero, please do not joke of such matters this soon.” Said boy offered a small smile and apologized, not even looking the slightest bit guilty. What was Sparda to do with this family of his? Though Sparda supposed he was to blame for this, after all, he was the one who introduced Nero to the Qliphoth. 

“I do believe Master Dante claimed to be preparing an additional room in his office in the event that Master Vergil wishes to work alongside his brother. A demoness claiming to be Trish dropped by. I must say her appearance shares a striking resemblance to that of Lady Eva. Are you sure she is to be trusted?”

“She is not…” Sparda paused, taking a moment to push past the growing lump in his throat before continuing, “She may not be Eva, but Trish carries more humanity in her than many demons I’ve come to know.” Trish will no doubt open freshly healed wounds with her presence, but that will be just another thing Sparda must accept and adapt to. After all, if it had not been for Trish, they wouldn’t have found Vergil nor would they have known where to find the Qliphoth in Hell in order to cure him.

Golden eyes held blue as Modeus tried to gauge Sparda’s sincerity. Satisfied with his master’s resolve, Modeus nodded once before gesturing that the two exit the house. It was only a few moments later that Sparda realized why his former apprentice brought him outside. 

Nero sat in front of Eva’s and Baul’s graves, aggressively pulling at the grass near him. And Sparda had a feeling he knew why. Sitting down beside his grandson, Sparda said nothing, waiting for Nero to speak first. For a while, Nero didn’t say anything. He just curled into himself, pulling his knees closer to his chest as his hands dug into his arms. A few more moments passed before his grandson cracked.

“He scares me…”

Never had Sparda heard such a meek response from his grandson—even in the face of unprecedented danger, Nero always managed to hide his fears and doubts. But then again, those were threats that would pass with time. This, however, was one endeavor that Nero could not just avoid.

“I don’t really get what he’s been through, but…” Nero rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing, “The way he reacted—I didn’t expect him to act like that. Did he know about me? Would he have stayed if he did? Does he even care that I’m here—that I tried to help him?”

Sparda pulled Nero into his arms, resting his chin on the younger part devil's head as he told Nero of Vergil’s childhood. About how much of a curious child Vergil was. Of his competitive streak with Dante. Of fondness of poetry and fantasy. Of how his weariness over new things in life melted given time and effort. 

About halfway through his newest story, Sparda couldn’t help but notice a lack of participation from his grandson; a quick glance downwards provided him with an answer. Nero must have fallen asleep during one of Sparda’s stories—not that he could blame the child. From his capture to nursing his father back to health, Nero spent very little time resting himself. Looks like it was off to be for the young part-devil! 

Slowly getting up as to not wake his grandson, Sparda carried Nero back into their home. Glancing around the bottom floor, Sparda couldn’t suppress his sigh as he noticed his son’s missing precise, he was truly hoping Vergil would _try_ to get to know his son.

While Sparda and Dante’s stories seemed to sate Nero’s curiosity, Sparda knew that what Nero truly needed was for his father to spend time getting to know him. And Sparda will be dammed if he lets Vergil get away from not getting to know his son. If Vergil thought his lecture earlier was harsh… well he’s got another thing coming!

“Father, I wish to…” Vergil’s voice quietened and trailed off as Sparda made his way to the stairs. Vergil studied his father and his son, noting that the latter was sound asleep in the former’s arms. 

Sparda stole a quick glance at Nero (who was, thankfully, still asleep) before turning his gaze back onto Vergil. “We will continue this conversation once I put Nero to bed.”

Vergil began to nod before pausing. His gaze shifting from the sleeping boy in Sparda’s arms to the bedrooms on the upper floors. Giving a curt nod to his father, Vergil steadily descended to the ground floor and opened his arms. When Sparda raised an eyebrow at his son’s behavior, Vergil hesitantly added, “Allow me to put Nero to bed—it is the least I can do after all.” Sparda chuckled warmly at his son’s response and obliged. 

Once sure that Vergil wasn’t going to drop Nero, Sparda watched in pride as Vergil gently carried Nero up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

While Vergil wasn’t sure which of the bedrooms were Nero’s, he’d like to think he had enough deduction skills to guess without having to consult his father or wake up his son for the matter. He assumed the smaller room, painting in baby blue with a small bed to be Nero’s.

Holding his son in one hand, Vergil pushed aside the covers and gently laid Nero on the bed. Pulling the blanket over his son’s body, Vergil found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sleeping part devil. He may not have known Nero for very long, but from what little he had seen and from what his father has told him, Vergil knew Nero was a good kid.

Better than Dante. Better than Sparda. Better than him. 

“I’m eager to see what the future has in store for us," And after only a slight hesitation, Vergil added, "Son.” 

Making his way towards the door, Vergil took one last look at his son. Apologies and gratitude can be given once Nero woke up. For now, he deserved his rest. With that, Vergil softly closed the door behind him, biding his son a restful sleep unaware of the small smile growing on Nero’s face once he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, what a wild journey this fic ended up being. It started off as a one-shot where Nero found Sparda and they lived together happily not knowing what happened to Vergil or Dante. Then it became a short 5 chap fic where they would deal with some of the results of Sparda being sealed away. But now, with all the love and support the series received it doubled in size to include Mundus and Nelo Angelo!
> 
> Every single comment and kudos made me so happy and encouraged me to continue writing! This fic wouldn’t be the same if it wasn’t for all of you so for that I thank all my readers! I’m honored to have shared my first multi-chapter fic with you guys!   
>  ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡
> 
> There's some good news too! While the main series is done, I do have some one-shots that I want to write for this series, so keep an eye out for them! Thanks again for all your love and support! (・∀・)


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